


The Masks We Wear

by haligh24



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: AU Week, And then adult feels, F/F, Teenage feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:05:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haligh24/pseuds/haligh24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU week! Bering and Wells! Story starts in high school, but doesn’t end there. I need someone to write summaries for me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part one

**Author's Note:**

> Angst warning plus some mention of/allusion to bullying and underage drinking.

“Come _out_ , Myka,” a muffled and exasperated voice filtered through the dressing room door.

Myka Bering sighed at her reflection and tugged on the hem of her dress one more time. She regarded herself critically in the mirror. Her long, dark curls, almost always impossible to tame, were pulled back tightly. She still thought her limbs looked too long for the rest of her body, but she had to admit she had grown a bit more proportional in the past year or so. Her face was... fine, she supposed. Nothing special.

The dress currently clinging to her body, however, was certainly _something_. Her friend, H.G., had picked it out for her, downright insisting that she try it on. Strapless, bright red and, because of the length of Myka’s legs, very short- it certainly wasn’t the type of thing she would ever have selected for herself.

“I- I don’t think it really fits,” Myka called back finally, “but it’s okay- I can just come back with my mom next week.”

“Please,” the other girl whined, her accented voice sounding closer than before, “just come out and let me see it.”

Myka smiled. She could picture the annoyed, and probably pitiful, expression H.G. was surely wearing. It sounded like the girl was leaning right up against the door.

“Alright, fine,” the smile slipped off Myka’s face, “but you can’t laugh.”

She wasn’t even sure why she was so nervous. Sure, the dress was a bit tight and pretty short, but she had worn a bathing suit in front of H.G. lots of times. Myka nodded to herself, gathering her courage.

“Cross my heart,” H.G. offered excitedly from outside the door, “Though, I suppose, being a devout atheist, that idiom probably doesn’t-”

The words died on H.G.’s lips as the dressing room door swung open. A foreign burn hummed inside Myka’s belly as H.G.’s eyes widened ever so slightly. Her friend didn’t say anything for a long beat, just looked Myka up and down with an unreadable expression.

“You hate it,” Myka felt her face flush as she turned quickly to re-enter the safety of the dressing room. H.G. grabbed the edge of the door before it could close.

“Myka, wait,” she said finally, “I don’t hate it, you just took me by surprise. Now turn ‘round so I can judge it properly. Please?”

Myka sighed, feeling foolish and more than a little confused at her reaction.

“Sorry,” she breathed, back still to the other girl, “I just- getting dressed up makes me so _uncomfortable_.”

“I know,” H.G. replied quickly, “I’m sorry- I hate to think I’ve added to your discomfort.”

Myka nodded, knowing how true those words were. Since moving from England to South Dakota five years ago, H.G. had become her closest friend- though she would never tell that to Pete, her BFF (his choice of phrase, not hers) since first grade. Myka closed her eyes for just a moment, willing the blush to fade, before she turned around.

“You look quite beautiful, Myka,” H.G. said quietly, sincerely, and it did nothing to quell the warmth in Myka’s cheeks.

 “It’s not too short?” She checked, self-consciously tugging the dress as far down as she could. H.G. merely shook her head in response. 

“You really like it?” Myka crossed her arms in front of her body, “I feel like I’m not even me.” 

“Nonsense, you’re definitely you. Besides, it’s _prom_ ,” H.G. declared with finality, “When else in this godforsaken town can we get dressed to the nines?”

“You’re really sure you don’t mind going without a date?” she checked, not for the first time, “I’m sure one of Pete’s friends would love to take you.”

It had been sweet, the way that Pete had insisted they go together. It was glaringly obvious that no one would ask Myka; H.G. and Pete were her only friends. She knew he could have had his pick of girls, being captain of the football _and_ wrestling teams, but he had shrugged it off. He claimed it was a BFF necessity, and, if she said “no,” it would break his heart.

“Those neanderthals?” H.G. scoffed, “No, thank you. I’m perfectly capable of attending a dance on my own. I refuse to lower my standards just because there are no suitable, available options.”

“ _Available_?” Myka felt her face light up as she decided to tease her friend a bit, “Why, Ms. Wells, do you have a crush? Actual _feelings_ for a boy? I’m scandalized!”

Helena made a face that was part grimace and part scowl before dropping her gaze.

“I didn’t mean it like _that_ , Myka,” she shook her head.

Myka’s chest tightened at the sight of the girl in front of her. She was such an idiot sometimes- why had she even said that?

“Helena,” Myka tried awkwardly, reaching out to gently grasp her friend’s upper arm, “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t- that was-”

“It’s fine,” she said with a shaky inhale, “I just- Sometimes, I feel like a bit of a freak-”

“You’re not,” Myka interrupted with conviction, stepping closer as she brought both hands up to H.G.’s shoulders, “Cross my heart.”

She quirked up one side of her mouth, hoping the familiar gesture would reassure the other girl. Helena held her gaze a few moments more, her eyes pained, before she looked down and stepped away.

“Come, then, let’s get that dress paid for,” Myka detected false brightness in her friend’s tone, “And then, I believe you owe me some chips.”

“Fries,” Myka muttered at her friend’s retreating form before heading back to the changing room to take off the dress.

/

The night of the prom came much faster than Myka would’ve liked - school days were steadily slipping away, marching all the seniors ever closer to graduation. She had taken to practically begging teachers for assignments, but, to her, it still didn’t seem like very much work.

The sharp ring of the doorbell pulled Myka from her thoughts and she hopped up from her place on the couch.

“I got it!” She called over her shoulder, knowing her attempt at keeping her parents away was very likely futile.

She pulled open the heavy door to reveal a grinning Pete Lattimer standing alongside Trevor Ross. _Trevor Ross? What the hell was he doing here?_

“Pete?” She narrowed her eyes and drew out the ‘e’ in his name, the same way she always did when he was being an idiot.

“Woah, Mykes,” his eyes wide, “you’re _hot_!” 

She tried to ignore the way he said it- like the notion that she could be attractive had taken him by complete surprise. She grabbed him by the collar of his tux, sparing a tight smile for Trevor before pulling him into the living room.

“What the hell is Trevor doing here?” The words came out as a whispered hiss.

“Take it easy, Mykes,” he shrugged out of her grasp, smoothing his lapel, “His date got sick at the last minute and I figured he could go with H.G.” Pete looked pleased with himself.

“And did you think to ask H.G. if she wanted a date?” Myka asked, glancing back at Trevor, who had let himself in and was awkwardly hovering by the door.

“Didn’t think it would be a big deal,” Pete shrugged, “I figured she’d be happy to not be a third wheel.”

“She wasn’t _going_ to be a third wheel,” Myka felt her voice raising and willed herself to calm down. She sighed and shook her head as her mother came bustling into the room, camera around her neck.

“If she kicks your ass,” Myka jabbed a finger at Pete’s chest, “I’m not going to stop her.”

“Fair,” Pete nodded, “Oh, hey! I brought you a corsage!” 

Myka grinned begrudgingly and punched him in the arm.

“You clean up alright, Lattimer,” she told him fondly, ignoring his protest at being hit, before walking over to Trevor.

“Sorry, Trevor, come on in,” she tried to be polite, but the boy’s presence was still bothering her, “I didn’t mean to be rude, I just didn’t know you were coming.”

“Pete told me he asked,” Trevor sulked, glaring at his buddy, “Sorry.”

Pete, meanwhile, had picked up Myka’s mom in a crushing bearhug, and was spinning her in a circle.

“Don’t worry about it,” Myka offered, ushering Trevor over to a chair.

“I’ll be right back with those cookies, dear, you just make yourself comfortable,” she heard her mother say as she made her way back to the kitchen.

“I always do!” Pete called back, hopping over the back of the couch and landing in a casual, reclined position with practiced ease. Myka shook her head at him.

“You’re going to wrinkle your tux,” she chided gently. Pete merely shrugged in response.

“Knock, knock,” Myka smiled broadly as soon as she heard H.G.’s voice drift across the room.

She spun around quickly to greet her friend, hoping the addition of _Trevor_ wouldn’t spoil their night. She apparently hadn’t been prepared for the sight of H.G. dressed up, and her stomach dropped uncomfortably.

Helena was stunning ( _literally_ stunning, it seemed, as Myka realized she hadn’t moved or said anything) in a little black dress. Myka felt something she couldn’t place, probably jealousy, as she studied the girl in front of her. The dress wasn’t quite as short as Myka’s, but a well-placed slit exposed her thigh impossibly high. The neckline dipped low and Myka wondered how she had gotten it to drape so perfectly.

“Are you alright?” H.G. asked, striding toward her.

“Yeah,” she sputtered, grabbing at the base of her neck as she stepped back to put some distance between herself and her friend, “I’m fine. That dress is… really awesome. I, um, I’m jealous.”

Why was she being so _weird_? She tried to swallow down the butterflies that had suddenly taken up residence in her belly.

“Thank you, Myka,” Helena beamed, “and you look as lovely as ever.” 

“ _Damn_ , Trevor,” Pete said loudly, sitting up on the couch, “I’m pretty sure we’re going to have the hottest dates at the prom. Glad I invited you, huh?”

Myka rolled her eyes, but didn’t turn away from H.G. She watched as her friend finally noticed the two boys waiting by the couch. When Helena’s face tightened, registering her obvious displeasure at the site of Trevor, Myka found herself smiling perversely.

Trevor was a good-looking guy, she had to admit, and part of her assumed immediately that Helena would be happy to have him as a date. So why was she pleased that H.G. seemed as put off by him as she did? Myka sighed, trying to clear her thoughts with a shake of her head.

“Mom,” she called, walking back to the couch, “we want to get going. Let’s take these pictures, I guess.”

 The night already wasn’t going the way she hoped it would, and she was anxious to get it over with.

“Alright, alright,” her mother replied, carrying a plate of cookies into the room, “we’ll just take a few, honey. You all look so grown up.”

Mrs. Bering smiled fondly at Pete, who was offering a corsage awkwardly toward Myka. She rolled her eyes again and thrust out her arm. Pete grinned and slipped the flower around her wrist.

“I, uh, got you one, too,” she whipped her head around as she heard Trevor’s deep voice boom behind her. 

Trevor looked hopeful as he, like Pete, held a corsage out toward his date. However, unlike Pete, Trevor had opted for the pin-able type of flower. She almost laughed out loud as she saw H.G. almost imperceptibly snarl before sighing, seemingly resigned to her fate.

“I went for the wrist option,” Pete whispered in her ear, “I figured you’d punch me if I got anywhere near your chestal region.”

Myka gave him a little shove before registering the full weight of his words and turning her attention back to the scene in front of her.

If Trevor made any moves, she would do… something. She pursed her lips, not knowing what she would actually do. Luckily for her (and Trevor), she didn’t have to figure it out because the boy pinned the corsage quickly and without any obvious incident.

“Lattimer,” Myka flinched as she heard her father’s voice.

“Hey, Mr. Bering,” Pete waved happily, “how’s it going?”

Pete was convinced that Myka’s parents thought of him as the son they never had. While that was probably true for her mother, her father often seemed to barely tolerate his shenanigans.

“I shouldn’t even have to say this,” he growled, walking over, “but if anything happens to my daughter, don’t bother coming back. Got it?”

“10-4, sir,” Pete nodded, “Oh hey, this is my buddy Trevor. He’s gonna be H.G.’s date.”

Myka watched nervously as her father nodded his acknowledgement of the other boy.

“Hello, Trevor,” the boy held out his hand and her father took it, “Just so we’re clear, the same goes for you, son.”

Myka knew she should be embarrassed by her father’s behavior, most teenage girls probably would be, but it mostly just made her happy to know her dad cared about her friend so much.

Her father had been charmed by Helena from the very first time he met her. Even as a thirteen year old, H.G. had been all grace and sophistication. The pair had discussed 18th century literature while Myka awkwardly tried to get a word in edgewise.

"My white knight," H.G. faux-swooned and Mr. Bering, usually a mask of gruffness, actually cracked a genuine smile.

"Ok, kids," her mother clasped the camera around her neck, "go over by the mantle."

"Where's Trace?" Pete wondered as they walked across the room.

"Oh, she actually left a little while ago," Myka explained, "She's going with Bradford Dawson."

"Seriously?” Pete's eyebrows shot up, “Your sister is a _freshman_ and Brad's even more popular than _me_."

Myka just shrugged her response, not really wanting to talk about Tracy. H.G. must have sensed her discomfort, because she was by her side in an instant.

"Come on," she grasped Myka's hand with a squeeze, "let's get a girls photo first, yes? Just us?"

Myka couldn't fight the grin taking over her face as she nodded. Helena's hand snaked around her waist, so Myka brought her arm up around the other girl's shoulders. She was quickly overwhelmed by the feel of smooth skin under her fingertips and the closeness of H.G. at her side. She swallowed and tightened the hold on her friend.

"Ok, now smile, girls," her mother called in a singsong voice.

And, somehow, Myka was able to do just that. She ignored the weirdness she had been feeling more and more lately, and just focused on how great it was to be there with her best friend. How safe and genuinely _happy_ she felt when Helena was around. She was surely beaming like an idiot, but she didn’t care.

"Gorgeous," her mom praised and Helena gave her waist an extra squeeze.

The rest of the photos went by as smoothly as could be expected. Her mom seemed to have an endless combination of poses and configurations for them to grit their teeth and smile through.

Soon enough, the foursome found themselves climbing excitedly into a limo. Though she been dreading prom night for weeks, Myka had to admit that this part was kind of fun.

"Ladies first," Trevor said, smoothly producing a flask from his jacket pocket and offering it his date.

If H.G. was surprised at all by his actions, she didn’t let it show. She merely smiled her thanks and took a long pull from the metal container. Myka, meanwhile, could feel her eyebrows raising up to her hairline.

“Don’t look so shocked, Mykes,” Pete nudged her and pulled out a flash of his own, “it’s _prom_! Everyone gets wasted- it’s like a coming of age tradition. I seriously think even your dad would approve of this.”

“You _know_ that’s not true,” Myka countered, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Ok, probably not,” Pete agreed easily, unscrewing the cap and thrusting the flask into her hands, “but poppa’s not here right now.”

“Yes, Myka,” H.G. piped up from across the limo, “let’s loosen up for the evening. You’ve let your hair down literally, now shall we let it down figuratively?”

Helena lifted the container once more in a mock toast, her eyes sparkling with mirth. Myka studied her for a long beat, before sighing in defeat. She supposed a few sips wouldn’t hurt. They both leaned forward to clink their flasks together. Myka held Helena’s gaze as she took a few swallows of alcohol. The liquid burned uncomfortably as it traveled down her throat, but she fought the urge to cough.

“Thatta girl,” Pete gave her a soft slap on the back before taking the flask and tipping it back for a long pull, “Ow owwww!”

The sound that came out of Pete was sort of a hybrid howl/yell and Myka couldn’t help but laugh at him. Maybe prom wouldn’t be so terrible after all.

/

Myka sat alone at a large, round table, running her finger around the rim of a water glass. Prom, so far, hadn’t been _bad_ , really, but it was starting to get boring. She’d had just enough rum in the limo that she was nervous about seeming drunk in front of the chaperones.

To compensate, she’d tried to act as uptight as possible throughout dinner. She didn’t say much, mostly just listened to Helena as the girl made up stories about the couples that surrounded them.

Now, however, the effects of the alcohol seemed to be wearing off and she couldn’t find any of the people she came with. A few minutes ago, Pete had come by to check on her. She told him she was perfectly happy, and gladly accepted a glass of spiked punch.

She was in the middle of a long sip when H.G. bonelessly draped her body in the chair next to her. She saw the girl’s mouth move, but with the din of the crowd and the way the light was reflecting softly off Helena’s hair, Myka realized she had no idea what her friend has said.

“Hmm? What did you say?”

She had found herself doing that a lot lately. She would get distracted by the way Helena’s accent sounded pronouncing a certain word or how her eyes would turn fiery when she defended a book she loved, and she would have to ask the girl to repeat herself. It made Myka feel rude, like a bad friend, but it seemed to amuse H.G. endlessly.

“I asked if you’d like to dance,” she smirked.

“Helena,” Myka giggled, feeling warm as she nudged the girl with her shoulder, “it’s a slow song- we can’t." 

H.G. looked momentarily deterred, but then grinned wickedly and nudged back, “And why ever can’t we? Our dates are off getting pissed and I fancy a dance.”

Myka realized her friend wasn’t kidding and that unnameable pull from deep within her stomach flared up again. She shook her head, looking down.

“You goof,” she tried to keep her tone light, “everyone would stare.”

“So?” Myka glanced up to find brown eyes staring back at her, challenging her, “Let them. In case you haven’t noticed, people have been staring at you all night. You’re gorgeous." 

Myka dropped her head once more, her cheeks burning.

“If they’ve looked this way, it’s at you- not me,” Myka protested, sipping down more of the punch, “And if you want to dance, I bet any of these guys would trip over each other to offer their arm.”

“Yes, well, that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Helena sighed, standing up abruptly, “I don’t fancy a dance with any of _them_ , do I?” 

With that, the girl strode purposefully toward the bathroom, leaving Myka, and her alcohol-addled brain, to ponder just exactly what had happened. 

/

“Are you mad at me or something?” Myka asked, stumbling forward as she leaned in close to Helena to be heard over the noise of the party.

The boys had met them when the dance ended and they had certainly been _pissed_ , as H.G. liked to say. Trevor slurred, inviting them all to Bradford’s post-prom party and telling them how awesome it was going to be.

For some strange reason, Myka found herself easily agreeing to the invitation. Helena had been distant- agreeing to the party, but not saying much else. Once they arrived, she split from the group and Myka hadn’t seen her for the past hour.

“No, Myka,” Helena sighed, taking a sip of beer.

“You _seem_ mad,” Myka swayed and grabbed the wall to steady herself. It occurred to her then that perhaps she had had a few too many beers, but it seemed easier to keep drinking from the party’s never-ending keg than to think about anything. 

“Are you drunk?” H.G. finally turned to look at her.

“Maybe,” Myka giggled, taking another swig, “You guys told me to let my hair down, right?”

Helena sighed again, “Not like this.”

“Like what?” She asked, tilting her head.

“I intended for us to just loosen up a bit and have an enjoyable evening,” Helena studied her, “Are you having fun?”

Myka shrugged.

“I missed you,” she answered honestly, swaying once more. H.G. reached out to steady her and Myka found that she couldn’t stop staring at the other girl’s eyes.

“Myka,” Helena started warily, but didn’t get any further as Pete chose that very moment to stumble toward them.

“My two favorite ladies,” he said loudly, putting an arm around each of them. Myka leaned into the embrace happily- Pete felt wonderfully stable and simple.

“Do me a solid, girls,” he continued, leading them slowly into another room, “and come play spin the bottle. People will be mad impressed if I show up with the two hottest chicks at the party.”

“Pete,” Myka giggled, but didn’t respond to his invitation.

“Yes, alright Pete,” H.G. piped up from his other side, “let’s join the game.”

“Yes!” Pete squeezed them tighter and led them toward a group of kids sitting on the ground in a circle. Myka froze when she realized her sister was among them. Pete didn’t notice that she had stopped walking, he simply filled in an open spot on the floor.

“Myka, are you alright?” Helena was suddenly at her side, her hand warm around the crook of Myka’s elbow, “We don’t have to play, you know.”

“Come on, guys!” Pete called over his shoulder, “These lips are raring to go!”

“I’m- It’s fine,” Myka shook her head, trying to smile.

She would be normal tonight, she had decided it somewhere around her third beer. And she was pretty sure normal meant playing spin the bottle and being social with her sister. She walked ahead of H.G., who frowned as she passed, and filled another gap in the circle.

“Woah, Myka,” her sister raised an eyebrow at her, “you look different.”

“You mean hot,” Bradford interjected and most of the guys in the circle laughed.

Myka willed herself not to blush as Tracy leaned across the circle to give Bradford a shove.

“Gross, Brad,” she smiled, “that’s my _sister_.”

Bradford just shrugged and grinned the grin of a privileged young man. Out of the corner of her eye, Myka noticed H.G. slide wordlessly into the circle across from her.

“Okay, okay,” Bradford said, “you all know the rules, I’m sure. If you land on the same person twice, you gotta use tongue.”

Myka saw Pete nod emphatically to her right and rolled her eyes at him.

The game began without incident, but Myka felt herself getting increasingly anxious as her turn was approaching. What had she been thinking, playing this game? Finally, a junior boy named Freddie passed her the bottle. She accepted it with a weak smile and took a deep breath.

The bottle seemed to spin for minutes, much longer than anyone else’s turn, but it finally slowed to a stop, landing on… _Pete_. She groaned for show, but was actually very pleased with her luck. Pete was safe. 

“Jeez, Mykes,” Pete shuffled closer to her, “if I wasn’t so good looking, you’d hurt my feelings.”

He leaned over and planted a quick peck on her lips before she even knew it was happening. She smiled at him and the game continued. 

On the next turn, however, Greg’s bottle stopped directly on Freddie. Myka’s breath caught as she waited to see what would happen. Both boys made disgusted faces at one another.

“Nah, uh, uh,” Pete said jovially, “Rules are rules, boys. Ya gotta kiss.”

“Ew, Pete, that’s fucking gross,” Myka dropped her gaze as she heard her sister’s voice.

“Yeah, man,” Bradford chimed in. “I don’t want any queers at my party.”

Myka downed the rest of her beer, feeling uncomfortable and suddenly very sad. 

“Okay, dude, take it easy,” Pete put his hands up submissively, “It’s all good. I think maybe it’s time for a drink refill, yeah?” Bradford studied him seriously for a moment more before his expression changed and he chugged his beer.

"Keg stands!" Bradford shouted, hopping up and pulling a giggling Tracy to her feet. The rest of the group either followed or milled around in smaller factions, the game broken up for now.

Myka exhaled a sigh of relief before getting to her feet and stumbling toward the back door. She was in desperate need of some fresh air. She passed a few smokers loitering on the deck and walked out into the yard.

Once Myka got near the tree line, she unceremoniously dropped to the grass. She sprawled out on her back and looked up at the clear sky. Lying in the cool grass made her feel a little better, but she still felt overwhelmed and couldn’t figure out why.

"You'll stain your dress," Helena sighed as she gracefully sat a few feet from Myka.

"It's fine- I'm never going to wear it again anyway," she closed her eyes.

"Myka," the girl began tentatively, "are you alright?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly, covering her face with her hands.

"Do you- do you want to talk about it?" She asked after a few moments.

"I'm not even sure how I- I don’t know what to say," she mumbled.

"Well, why don't you just start talking, come on then," Helena reclined next to her, close enough so Myka could feel the heat radiating off her arm and it made her shiver.

“Trevor pinned a corsage on you,” she stated randomly.

“Yes,” Helena replied slowly, and after a long moment, “he did. He _was_ my date, apparently.”

“I didn’t know he was coming,” Myka was fast to explain.

“That’s alright,” Helena’s response came more quickly this time, “it’s all worked out just fine.”

“I didn’t invite him, you know?” She continued, “I didn’t ask him to pin you with _anything_. I wouldn’t have done that.”

There was another pause before Helena replied, “Is Trevor really the problem here?”

Myka shook her head, which was still covered by her draped arms. She took a deep breath before responding.

"I feel like everything's weird right now, I don't know how to describe it," Myka told her, "And we're going to leave for college really soon, and I know we said it would be fine and that we would keep in touch and visit, but it just doesn't feel fine anymore. I don't know."

Myka groaned at her own rambling and heard Helena shift beside her. She felt a soft hand pull each arm, one at a time, off her face and back down to her sides. She felt that same hand tug gently through her hair. She swallowed down the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat.

"Myka, will you look at me?" Her stomach flopped and she shivered again as the soft voice reached her ears.

Finally, Myka opened her eyes to find her friend much closer than she had been before, propped up on her side. The hand that had been gently playing with her hair was moving to her jaw, as Helena stared into her eyes. Myka was paralyzed, her heart beating erratically, but she couldn’t look away.

“I just,” Helena whispered, hand sliding around to the back of her neck, “Can I?”

Myka didn’t know what she was asking- didn’t really know what was happening- but found that she couldn’t stop staring at her friend’s dark eyes.

Helena inched impossibly closer, her eyes darting to glance at Myka’s lips, which Myka then moistened subconsciously. After another long moment, Helena closed her eyes and Myka did the same, still frozen in place. All of a sudden, Myka’s breath caught as she felt a delicate, tentative mouth cover her own.

Myka reveled in the softness for a few seconds, feeling something settle in her chest, before jerking away abruptly. She stared at Helena with wide eyes, inching away from the girl to sit up. 

“What- what the hell?” Myka stammered, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

“Myka, I-” Helena whispered, “I- what?” The girl was shaking her head, confused.

“H.G.,” Myka wiped at a tear that had somehow leaked from her eye, “what the fuck are you doing?”

“What?” Helena narrowed her eyes, still shaking her head.

“You-” Myka realized she was crying now, but didn’t really know why, “That’s gross. Why did you do that?”

“Myka, stop it,” H.G. grit her teeth and Myka tried to ignore the way her friend’s voice broke.

“I’m not a freak,” Myka spat, wishing she could stop talking, or crying, or both, “I’m not-” She choked on a sob.

“Myka,” Helena repeated with disbelief, reaching out toward her.

“No!” she shouted, “Don’t touch me. I’m not- I’m… You’re disgusting.”

Helena’s eyes widened with hurt before her jaw clenched angrily. Without another word, she turned away from Myka, got up and half-walked, half-ran back toward the house. 

Myka sat there, stunned and crying, fighting against the urge to yell for Helena to wait, to come back. She shook her head, wishing she could think, but all her thoughts were blurring uncomfortably.

The only thing Myka was sure of was that she felt sad. Unbelievably, inconsolably sad. She wiped angrily at her eyes once more, before pushing herself up to unsteady feet. She made her way across the yard and was back inside the house before she realized she hadn’t thought of a plan of action.

“Myka?”

She heard her sister’s voice over the crowd noise coming from across the room and instinctively turned in the opposite direction. She pushed through groups of people, hoping she didn’t look like quite as much of a mess as she felt, before feeling a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“Mykes,” she blinked and Pete came into focus, “are you okay?” She shook her head.

“I’m going home,” she said, refusing to make eye contact with her oldest friend.

“Okay, let me grab my jacket,” he told her, “It’s right there on the couch." 

“No, you stay,” she shook her head, “I’ll be fine.”

Pete grabbed her hand and led her to the couch, quickly grabbing his jacket before steering them toward the front door.

“Pete, I’m serious,” she protested as he closed the door behind them, “I don’t want to spoil your night.” She felt herself starting to cry again and sighed with frustration.

“Nah, it’s a lame party anyway,” he offered, draping his jacket over her shoulders, “Bradford’s a douche.” 

Something like a laugh escaped from her mouth as she tried hard not to break down.

“I saw H.G. bolt outta here just a few minutes ago,” Pete continued, “We might be able to catch up with her. Was somebody a jerk to you guys?”

Myka flinched and shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself. They walked in silence for a few minutes before Pete spoke again.

“Seriously, Mykes,” he said, “if one of those assholes said anything or, or did anything to _either_ of you-”

“No, Pete, it’s not like that. I don’t want to talk about it,” Myka interrupted quickly, “and I don’t want to see H.G. right now. We- I- I just don’t want to see her right now.”

Pete’s eyes widened with understanding and he nodded.

“Okay,” he said simply, putting a warm arm around her shoulders. They walked the rest of the way home in near silence, the only sounds breaking the still night were the clacking of Myka’s heels on the pavement and her occasional sniffles.

/

Helena was a ghost over the next few weeks. Myka only saw her in school every now and again, but her absences weren’t unusual for a Senior about to graduate. In fact, Myka was pretty sure that she was the only member of her grade that hadn’t cut class at all.

Pete attempted to subtly find out what had happened at the party a few times, but every time he did so, Myka would shut down. He gave up after about a week, but didn’t stop giving her concerned looks when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.

Even Myka’s family noticed that something was up, each of them responding in their own way. Her mother started cooking Myka’s favorite things for almost every meal. She took to making awkwardly forced offhand comments like, “You know you can tell me anything, right?” Or, “I remember how complicated everything was at your age." 

Her sister was being strangely nice to her, going so far as to even acknowledge and talk to her at school. A few times at home, she looked like she wanted to say something important, but would always end up just forcing a smile before asking Myka to “pass the salt” or something equally mundane.

Surprisingly, her father seemed to have the best idea of what was going on in Myka’s head. She was helping out in the bookstore her family owned the evening before her last day of high school, when he awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Where has Helena been lately?” he asked, glancing up at her, “There are a few pieces in this shipment that I think she’d be particularly interested in.”

“You know, dad,” she began in a measured voice, her head down, “there’s so much going on lately, graduation and all, and she’s been really busy.”

“Oh,” he grunted, “I thought Tracy mentioned that Helena was going to miss your graduation. Something about going to visit family in England before heading off to college?”

“I, um,” Myka’s head swam, “You know, I can’t remember. I actually have to go do some homework, okay? I’ll see you at dinner.”

Myka’s father raised an eyebrow, but nodded, saying nothing. The both knew that she hadn’t had homework assigned in over a week.

She saw Helena only once during the commotion of the last day of school. The other girl was cleaning out her locker down at the opposite end of the hall. They locked eyes for just a moment before Myka turned away, but she felt a deep, empty ache after seeing Helena’s pained expression. She wasn’t able to shake the image from her head. 

Later that evening, Myka lay on her bed, listening to the most depressing CDs she owned and staring up at her ceiling. Her cell phone was trapped tightly in her sweaty grip as she contemplated her options. Before she could decide on anything, however, she felt it buzz within her fingers. She flipped the phone open and her chest tightened; she knew it would be from Helena before she looked at the screen.

_Will you meet me at the park? I’d like to talk to you._

Myka willed her pulse to slow down as she typed a quick response.

_When?_

Myka bit her lip as she waited to see what H.G. would say. She already knew she would go, whatever time Helena said.

_Whenever. I’m here already, but I’ll wait as long as you need._

 Myka’s stomach rolled, but she nodded resolutely, sitting up as she replied.

_I’m on my way._

Ten minutes later, Myka took a steadying breath as she walked up to the swing set where Helena sat. She hoped she looked more confident than she felt.

“Hey,” she said, sitting on the other swing.

“Hello,” H.G. replied, not looking up, “thanks for coming.”

“Uh, no problem,” Myka said, feeling awkward as she began to swing lightly.

“I want to be direct with you, Myka,” H.G. told her, taking a deep breath.

“Okay,” Myka nodded, feeling extremely shaky.

“I’m leaving,” she began quietly, “Tomorrow, actually. And I needed to see if you had anything to say to me before I left.”

“So, it’s true,” Myka breathed, “I heard a rumor that you were leaving early, but I didn’t know…”

She trailed off and finally looked over at her friend. Helena was staring back at her, with an expression she couldn’t figure out. Neither girl spoke for a long moment.

“Well, my dad got a new shipment of books in,” Myka looked away, “and he thought there were a few you would especially like. So, you should really come see before you leave-”

“Myka,” H.G. interrupted, “do you have anything to say to me?” The girl looked so broken that Myka had to fight against the urge to reach out to her. She shook her head, trying to clear everything inside it.

“I don’t-” Myka started and stopped, “I’m not ready for you to leave, I don’t think.”

“Why not?” H.G. asked softly.

“Helena, please, just- I’m not,” Myka struggled to find the right words.

“Why not, Myka?” Helena asked again, voice shaking, and twisted in her swing so she was facing her friend. She reached a tentative hand out and placed it gently on Myka’s thigh.

Myka jumped up as though Helena’s hand had burned her. She backed away a couple of steps, heart ready to burst from her chest.

“Don’t _do_ that,” she begged through gritted teeth, “H.G., I…” Myka trailed off, realizing she had no idea what to say. She had no idea how to explain herself, no clue how to stop feeling things she couldn’t figure out.

“Goodbye, Myka,” Helena stood abruptly, discretely wiping a tear from her eye, “I’ll ask you to kindly not contact me unless you’ve decided to be honest with yourself.”

“Helena,” Myka gaped at her, “You can’t-”

“I would wish you luck at university,” H.G. continued as though Myka hadn’t spoken, and picked up her bag from the ground, “but I doubt you will need it.”

“Helena,” Myka repeated sternly, louder now. The other girl finally looked up at her, eyes glassy with tears.

“I hope you’ll be happy, Myka,” she said sadly, “I truly wish nothing but the best for you. I’d give you a hug, but I’m not very interested in being called a _freak_ again.”

Helena’s expression turned icy as she spat the word, and Myka recoiled. Before she could respond, H.G. turned and walked away.

 

_Six years later_

“Hang on!” Myka called, rinsing the last bit of soap out of her bowl and depositing it in the rack before drying her hands quickly. She carried the towel with her to the front door, wondering who would possibly be coming by unannounced on a Sunday afternoon.

Assuming that it had to be Pete trying, once again, to get her to watch football with him, Myka didn’t bother checking the peep hole. She flung open the door unceremoniously, one hand on her hip, ready to tell him (for the last time) that she just didn’t really care about the Broncos.

The sight that greeted her on the other side of her threshold, however, made her stomach drop and her breath catch. Standing there, nervously shifting a backpack on her shoulder, was Helena G. Wells.

“Hello, Myka.”


	2. Part two

Myka Bering could say with absolute certainty that she wasn’t the type of person to be struck speechless. She knew she was an intelligent woman; a woman who could think on her feet and respond to almost any situation. Yet, here she was- opening and closing her mouth like a fool, unable to find her voice.

The last time she could recall feeling this way she had been eighteen years old, left dumbfounded and alone next to a swing set. A younger version of the woman standing in front of her had caused the muteness then, and she had done it again now.

“May I come in?” Helena asked quietly. Myka eyed the luggage piled around H.G.’s feet, but opened the door wide and gestured into her home.

“Do you-” Myka cleared her throat as she pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, “Would you like a hand?”

“I think I can manage, thank you,” Helena shifted the backpack on her shoulder, picked up her duffel bag and was attempting to grab the handles of two wheelie bags when Myka stepped forward with a roll of her eyes.

“I’ll get this one,” she said, wheeling the largest suitcase into her living room. Helena followed, dropping the rest of her bags near the couch.

“May I sit?” She asked primly, gesturing toward the couch. Myka raised her eyebrows at her old friend’s behavior.

“Sure, why not?” She laughed to herself, trying to roll with the bizarre situation, “Do you, do you want a drink or something?”

“Some water would be lovely,” H.G. said, dropping heavily onto the couch.

Myka noticed for the first time how tired the other woman looked. She nodded and made her way back to the kitchen, tossing the dish towel she still carried onto the kitchen table as she reached the cabinet.

Myka was in the middle of pulling down a cup when she was hit with a mild wave of vertigo. She was able to hold herself together, bringing the water glass down to rest gently on the countertop before leaning heavily against it for support.

What the fuck was Helena doing at her doorstep? She’d literally had zero contact with the woman since that night at the park so many years ago. Sure, Pete had kept her vaguely updated with casual mentions (she knew that H.G. was living in London, for instance), but neither woman made any attempt at communication over the years.

Myka took a deep breath, feeling the dizziness pass, and filled the water glass from the pitcher in her fridge. She nodded to herself resolutely before heading back to her living room. She would be civil, _polite_ , and have Helena on her way within the hour.

She set the glass of water down on a coaster in front of Helena before taking a seat in the chair across from her. H.G. smiled her thanks and took a long drink of water. An awkward silence settled over the pair as Helena looked everywhere but at Myka, while Myka waited for some kind of explanation as to the woman’s sudden appearance.

“Helena,” she said finally, running a hand through her curls, “what are you doing here?”

H.G. finally looked at her and smiled apologetically. She clasped her hands on her lap before speaking.

“I have to admit that I’m in a bit of a bind,” she said, still smiling tightly, “I realize how very inappropriate this is, but I couldn’t think of anyone else to turn to.”

At once, Myka could very clearly see through H.G.’s prim and proper behavior and realized that the woman was obviously scared of something.

“What’s going on?” Myka edged forward in her seat.

“Well, Myka,” she inhaled deeply, studying something that was apparently very interesting on her lap, “I’m pregnant.”

The air whooshed suddenly out of Myka’s lungs. Of all the reasons Helena could’ve given for bursting back into her life, pregnancy had not even been on Myka’s radar. How could the woman possibly be pregnant? Myka sat back in her chair, taking off her glasses and setting them down on the end table next to her.

“Myka?” Helena asked quietly, and Myka hummed distractedly in response, “Myka, I find myself once again, and against my better judgment, asking if you have anything to say to me. And it is just as nerve wracking this time around.”

The blatant reference to that night, to what happened between them six years ago, hung in the air and Myka looked sharply at her old friend.

“H.G.,” she sighed, suddenly tired, “what do you want from me?”

“Well, I was hoping you could perhaps provide some guidance, some assistance,” Helena tried and failed to keep the hope out of her voice.

Myka frowned and shook her head.

“I’m just a grad student,” Myka replied, “I don’t really have very much money.”

“Money?” Helena scoffed, “No, Myka, I’m not here to ask you for _money_.”

“Well, then, what do you need?” Myka asked, rubbing her forehead.

“I need-” Helena paused, and Myka was terrified she was going to follow up with the word _you_ , “I need help. I need _someone_.”

Myka let out a sigh of relief, but it sounded wistful even to her own ears.

“Helena,” she began, shaking her head again.

“No, no, no. Don’t _Helena_ me, not right now,” the woman interrupted, sadness flooding her features even as her fists balled up at her sides, “I have spent the past six years being so bloody angry with you that I can hardly stand it. But right now, I am just frightened, Myka. I’m really, really frightened, and I don’t want to fight with you anymore. I need my best friend- I’ve missed you so much. And I hate it that I have, but it’s true.”

Somewhere in the middle of her rant, Helena had started to cry. Myka looked on with wide eyes, realizing she had never seen H.G. _really_ cry before- not like this.

“Sod it,” H.G. sobbed angrily, standing up, “This was a ridiculous idea- I’ll find a hotel. Sorry to have bothered you.”

H.G. was gathering up her bags with some difficulty when Myka finally recovered from the initial shock of the outburst. She hopped up nervously and laid a hesitant hand on Helena’s shoulder. The other woman froze.

“H.G., just wait a second,” Myka told her, removing her hand quickly, “come sit back down. Please.”

After a long pause, Helena barked out a growl of frustration and turned around.

“Pregnancy hormones,” she huffed angrily, wiping away tears, “I’ve been a right mess for weeks.”

Myka smiled warmly at that and, without thought, pulled her old friend into a tight hug. She wasn’t at all prepared for the onslaught of emotion that came with feeling Helena’s body pressed up against her own. She pulled away after just a moment, looking down sheepishly as a long forgotten warmth rushed to her cheeks. She felt like she was eighteen again, out of control and confused.

“I, uh, I missed you, too, H.G.,” Myka mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck, “Now, come sit down and talk to me.”

She looked up to find Helena staring at her with a quizzical look on her face. It looked like she wanted to say something, but she just nodded and walked back toward the couch, wiping her eyes on the way.

“So, uh,” Myka began, sitting back down in her chair, “how did this happen, exactly?”

Despite her red-rimmed eyes and running nose, Helena had the audacity to smirk suggestively.

“Come now, Myka,” she quirked up an eyebrow, “surely you know _that_.”

“Well, yeah, of course,” Myka blushed, again, “I just- I mean, I thought you… I didn’t think that you…” She trailed off awkwardly, shaking her head.

“You assumed I was a _lesbian_?” H.G. emphasized the word, staring at the other woman as though to gauge her reaction. Myka flinched, blanching.

“Right,” Myka bit her lip, “aren’t you?”

“No,” she said simply and Myka’s chest tightened uncomfortably.

“Oh,” she offered, confused, “well, okay. Sorry.”

Myka was lost- had she completely misinterpreted what happened between them six years ago?

“Myka,” the woman sighed sadly, “this happened because I had sex with a man, the condom broke and I found myself pregnant. My ever so _loving_ family all but ordered me to have an abortion immediately, which I refused. Admittedly, I was being contrary at first, but now I find myself genuinely wanting to keep this child. And to add insult to injury, the father wants nothing to do with me- with _us_ , I suppose.”

Helena glanced down toward her stomach. Myka put her own feelings, her confusion, aside as her heart broke for the woman in front of her. Whatever had happened between them in the past, she couldn’t forget what an incredible friend Helena had been at a time in her life when she really needed one.

“That makes him a total idiot,” Myka offered with a soft smile, “So, uh, how, um, far along are you? I mean, could you even still have an abortion? Is that something you want?”

Myka was resolved to be as supportive as possible, whatever Helena decided.

“Oh, I’m only about ten weeks- so, yes, I could. The thing is, I don’t actually know if I want that anymore,” H.G. sighed, running a hand through her hair, “I never really gave much thought to children before. Do you- Do you think I’d make a decent mother?”

Myka smiled broadly as she was assaulted by the image of Helena, profile bathed in moonlight, humming softly as she rocked an infant to sleep.

“Yeah, I think you’d be great,” she answered honestly and Helena returned the smile for a moment before frowning anxiously.

“Be that as it may, I’m not sure I want to do it on my own. And, after my family’s awful behavior, I was thinking of whom I could possibly turn to. And, well, I kept coming back to... to you. And also Pete, oddly enough,” Helena smiled apologetically before continuing, “So, I hopped on a plane and here I am. Pete’s been keeping me up to date with your addresses and the like over the years- just in case, I suppose.”

“Oh,” was all Myka could manage in response.

She knew that Pete had been in contact with H.G., but had no idea to what extent. She also still wasn’t exactly sure what Helena was asking of her.

“I realize that this may all sound a bit mad,” H.G. smiled self-deprecatingly, “And, truly, I don’t want you to think that my decision hinges upon yours- I believe I will be keeping the baby regardless of your, and Pete’s, involvement.”

“Okay,” Myka nodded, feeling overwhelmed.

“Anyway, you don’t have to decide right now. Think it over; take your time. We have about six months before anything really happens,” Helena rested a hand over her midsection with a slight grin.

“H.G.,” Myka started tentatively, “I still don’t know if I understand why you came here? Don’t you hate me?”

“I _never_ hated you, Myka,” she shook her head sadly, “And, like I said, I don’t want to be angry anymore. You’re still the very best friend I’ve ever had, and, when I imagined raising a child, I knew his or her world would be better with you in it.”

Myka wasn’t sure what to say to that, so she just nodded, looking down shyly.

“Well, I think I will go get that hotel room now,” Helena stood up.

“You could stay here,” Myka heard herself make the offer as though she had no control over her mouth, “if you wanted. I mean, hotels are expensive.”

Myka shrugged, trying to appear casual. Trying to appear as though Helena’s sudden appearance wasn’t turning her very carefully constructed world upside down.

“Oh, I don’t want to impose,” H.G. tilted her head thoughtfully, “as crazy as _that_ may sound.” Myka smiled, loosening up.

“It’s fine,” she stood up as well, “I have a pull out couch in the study. It’s not the Ritz, but it’s actually pretty comfortable.”

“If you’re positive,” H.G. paused and Myka nodded, “well then, alright. Thank you, Myka.”

Myka smiled before grabbing all but one of the other woman’s bags and leading her further into her home.

/

“I think it’s awesome, Mykes,” Pete said through a mouthful of chowder, “I’ll get to be cool Uncle Pete. Teach the kid all the fun stuff.”

Myka looked at her friend with disbelief before handing him a napkin. It had only been a few hours since H.G had arrived on her doorstep. Myka had stepped out to debrief the situation with Pete while Helena took a nap, exhausted from travel.

“Pete, there’s a lot more to it than that,” Myka told him, “It’s a big commitment, to be part of a child’s life. Plus, H.G. said she didn’t need help financially, but I’m not sure she understands how much this is going to cost.”

“Oh, that’s not a problem- she’s pretty loaded,” Pete replied quickly, wiping his mouth. Myka looked at him sharply.

“Uh, I mean," he continued, looking uncomfortable, "I wouldn't worry about that." Myka continued to glare at him.

"Okay! Will you stop looking at me like that?" He finally put his spoon down, "H.G. has been successful. Like, _really_ successful. So, whatever reservations you have about this baby- money should not be one of them."

"Successful doing what?" She pressed, leaning closer to him from across the booth, "And how do you know? How close have you guys been?" Pete shrugged uncomfortably.

"We've kept up," he said vaguely, dipping a chunk of bread into his soup, "She's kind of a kick ass writer, Mykes."

"What? Really?" Myka looked away, getting lost in thought, "I mean I'm not _surprised_ , you know? That makes sense. Of _course_ she would be great at whatever she put her mind to. And she did always have a way with words, couldn't miss that."

"Uh, hello? Still here," he waved his hand in front of her face.

"Sorry," she shot him a sheepish grin, "So, what kind of writing?"

"Her first novel has sort of blown up lately. It's called _The Masks We Wear_ ," Pete revealed the information quietly, a spoonful of chowder hovering halfway between his mouth and the bowl.

"What?" Myka hadn't meant to yell, but her voice was apparently raised enough that several other diners glanced their way, "That's huge! How could you keep that from me?"

She reached across the table to give Pete a good-natured jab at his shoulder.

"Shh, Myka, you're kind of making a scene," Pete hushed her as he gestured to their surroundings.

"Sorry," she hissed, looking around, "but, that book has gotten amazing reviews- it's on the New York Times bestseller list!"

Pete agreed with a nod.

"But H.G. didn’t write that, Pete. The author is," she paused to think, before a look of understanding crossed her face, "Helen Welling."

"Bingo," Pete nodded.

Myka stared at him, unable to mask the hurt she was feeling.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked quietly, “Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Are you kidding me?” Pete looked at her incredulously, “Myka, I couldn’t even mention her name for like two years without you freaking out- you _still_ get all weird when I talk about her. Why would I randomly tell you about her career?”

"Okay, well, we're not talking about some minor promotion or whatever- she wrote one of the best books of the year. Or maybe _better_ than that, I don’t even know- I haven't read it yet."

"What happened between you two?" Pete finally asked after a long moment spent studying the contents of his bowl.

Myka scoffed, feeling panic rise up within her, "I’m surprised _she_ didn’t tell you, considering what _close friends_ you apparently are."

"Don’t be like that," he sighed, "She only ever said that you guys had a disagreement, and that you would never be able to forgive her. And that she couldn’t be around you anymore."

Myka said nothing, just picked at an ancient carving in their diner booth. _Disagreement_. The word didn’t feel right to describe what happened the night of their prom.

“Listen,” he reached across the table, stilling her busy hands, “I know you probably think I’m crazy, but, Myka, I think this a good thing. Like all of it- having H.G. back in our lives, helping to take care of a baby, _everything_.”

“A baby is…” Myka squeezed his hand, “it’s forever, Pete. And saying yes to Helena right now- it means the three of us are in each other’s lives no matter what. I would never want to- to build a relationship with this child and then abandon him or her.”

“I know that,” Pete nodded, “it just doesn’t really bother me. Honestly, I love both of you and I had planned to be part of your lives anyway. I’m not sure what happened between you guys, but I, for one, have missed her. And I’ve missed you, too.”

"Pete," she tilted her head quizzically, "you moved here like two years ago."

After graduating from SDSU on a full athletic scholarship, Pete had wasted no time joining Myka in Boston. He claimed he wanted a taste of “big city livin’,” but Myka always wondered if he moved because he worried about her.

"Yeah, I know, just-" he scratched at the back of his neck absently, "nevermind. You wanna share a sandwich?"

Myka narrowed her eyes at him, but decided not to press the issue.

“Does _sharing_ mean that I get half a sandwich or two bites of a sandwich?” she asked him sarcastically.

“Yeah, you’re right- we better get two,” he nodded, looking past her for their waitress.

/

"So, are you all, like," Tracy paused, " _living_ together?"

Myka sighed. She hadn't expected her sister to understand.

"H.G. is staying with me, for now," Myka tried not to lose her patience, as she shifted the phone to her other ear.

"Well, that's cool," her sister decided. Myka waited for the inevitable snarky or judgment-filled comment to follow, but none came.

"Is she just so excited?" Her sister continued, "Baby clothes are so freaking adorable- I cannot wait to go shopping. I should plan a trip to see you guys soon!"

Myka was fairly certain that her jaw actually dropped.

"Excuse me?" Myka asked, "I _am_ still talking to my sister, right? You seriously don't have anything else to say but, ‘Is she excited?’ This is _scandalous_ by your standards- a young, unmarried woman I haven’t spoken to in years gets knocked up and shows up on my doorstep, and you’re totally cool with it?”

Tracy sighed dramatically, "Myka, I'm not a little kid anymore. I am practically 21 years old and I've seen some stuff in my life. I'm not proud of how I used to be- I know I wasn’t always a nice person, but it's not who I am anymore."

Myka bit her lip, ashamed of her outburst.

“I know you’re not a kid, Trace,” she said sincerely, “I’m sorry, I guess I just forget sometimes- makes me feel old to hear you sound so grown up.”

“Look at us- having an adult conversation,” Myka smiled at the thought, “Mom and Dad would be stunned.”

Myka felt a wave of anxiety bubble up at her sister’s mention of their parents.

“How are they, anyway?” Myka asked dutifully.

“Oh, they’re fine,” Tracy told her breezily, “you know, same as ever. But they’re going to be so excited to hear about H.G.- especially Dad. I could never figure out who missed her more over the years- you or him.”

Myka sat down heavily as she received her second familial shock within five minutes.

“Tracy,” Myka began seriously, unsure of what exactly to say.

“I know, I know,” her sister cut in, “we don’t talk about whatever happened between you two. God, Myka, you’re so repressed.”

“ _Repressed?_ Hey, I-” Myka sputtered over her words.

“Sorry, maybe not repressed. Closed off? All I know is that I don’t think you have ever once talked to me about yourself or your feelings or _anything_ ,” Tracy sighed, “You totally get it from Dad.” Myka frowned, thrown by the turn the conversation had taken.

“Um, anything else about me you wanna shit on, Trace?” Myka mumbled.

“Sorry,” Tracy responded in that way that only little sisters can, both apologetic and untroubled all at once, “Anyway, I’ll tell Mom and Dad, if you want. I’m sure you’ve been all anxious about it.” Myka had been, in fact, but she wasn’t about to admit that to her sister.

“Oh,” she replied, aiming for nonchalance, “I mean, sure. If you were planning to talk to them anyway- no big deal.”

“Right,” she could practically hear the amused smile in Tracy’s voice. She was about to insist that it _wasn’t_ a big deal- when she heard a set of keys drop right outside the door, followed by a soft utterance of “bollocks.”

“Hang on, Trace,” Myka smiled, setting her cell phone down on the table. She jogged over to the door and flung it open to reveal a flustered Helena, who was bending down to retrieve her keys. The smile immediately slipped off of Myka’s face as she felt a familiar sharp twist low in her belly.

Helena’s position, coupled with the low-cut shirt she had chosen for the unseasonably warm New England autumn day, gave Myka an unobstructed view of the woman’s increasingly ample cleavage. She suddenly felt very warm and, despite her best efforts, was unable to tear her eyes from the form in front of her.

“Myka,” H.G. smiled broadly as she stood up, keys in hand, “hello.”

Myka knew that she must’ve looked strange, because Helena’s expression changed almost immediately.

“Are you-” she breathed, peering at the other woman, “Are you alright, Myka?”

“Sorry,” Myka shook her head, hoping her blush wasn’t as obvious as it felt, “I’m fine. Do you want some help?”

She gestured to the shopping bags Helena had abandoned on the floor.

“That would be lovely, actually,” she chuckled softly, “I may have gone a bit overboard.” Myka grinned crookedly back at her.

“Just a bit,” she teased, taking the bags that Helena offered, “I’m on the phone with my sister. Well, she’s on hold, but she says ‘hi.’”

Myka spoke over her shoulder as she carried the bags into what had become H.G.’s room.

“Oh, splendid, and how is our young Tracy?” Helena asked brightly, following her friend.

“Not so young anymore, as she has informed me,” Myka dropped the bags on H.G.’s makeshift bed, turning to watch the woman enter the room. She knew she was staring and wanted to stop, but just couldn’t seem to help it.

“Ah, yes, that does tend to happen,” Helena grinned before flopping onto some free space on the bed, “Please give her my love, but, then, hurry back, yes? I have some news I’ve just been bursting to share.”

Myka swallowed thickly as she tried to avert her eyes from the prone form in front of her. She nodded, biting her lip before responding.

"Be right back," her voice sounded breathless even to her own ears. She clenched her jaw angrily as she walked back toward her living room.

This had to stop- Myka wasn’t seventeen and naive anymore. She _knew_ that when she stared at Helena, when she thought of the woman, what she was feeling was arousal- not jealousy or mere fondness or whatever else she used to tell herself. She _knew_ that she was attracted to women, but it was something she made a conscious effort to ignore.

Since Helena had stepped back into her life a few weeks ago, however, she was finding it harder than ever to suppress her feelings. Sure, she had been attracted to other women over the years, but it was never quite the same. Myka sighed heavily before picking up her cell phone from the table.

“Sorry, Trace,” she said, “I was helping H.G. carry some bags in.”

“No problem,” her sister responded good-naturedly, “but I have to run, actually. Let’s talk this week- I want to plan a trip.”

“Sounds good,” Myka inhaled deeply, “Tracy, I- thanks.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Myka,” she laughed, “I love you, you know that? And me and Mom and Dad aren’t as old-fashioned as you seem to think we are.”

“‘I’ll try to keep that in mind, oh wise one,” Myka smiled, walking back toward Helena’s room, “Talk to you soon.”

“‘Bye, sis,” Tracy chuckled as she ended the call. Myka paused outside her study, trying to slow her racing heart. After a minute, she stepped into the room, smiling when she saw Helena hold up a tiny onesie.

“It’s absurd,” the woman began, eyes twinkling, “how adorable baby clothes are, don’t you agree? Take this- it’s just a tiny, white article of clothing, nothing remarkable, and yet I can’t help but feel that it’s quite possibly the most darling thing I’ve ever purchased.”

“Just wait until we start buying the little shoes,” Myka hopped onto the bed, “those are what really get me.”

Helena’s smile was contagious and Myka finally had to look away.

“So, what’s the news?” Myka continued, picking at the comforter.

“Ah, yes,” her friend continued to remove baby clothes from their hangers, depositing the garments in a laundry basket, “I think I found the perfect house to buy.”

Myka fought the urge to frown when she saw the excitement on H.G.’s face.

“Wow,” she ran her hand through her hair and rubbed at the back of her neck, “that’s huge. I, uh, I didn’t even know you were looking.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Myka wished she could’ve replaced them with a more sincerely excited congratulations.

“Oh, well, I,” Helena paused, turning away to move the laundry basket closer to the door, “I didn’t want to overstay my welcome-”

“Helena,” Myka interrupted, “I told you that you really are welcome here.”

“I know,” H.G. replied quickly, “but I also have to think of the future. When the baby comes, it would be nice to have some more space.”

“Oh,” Myka realized she somehow hadn’t thought of that, “right. That makes sense.”

She laid back onto the bed, trying to collect her thoughts. It was probably for the best to put some distance between herself and the other woman.

“The thing of it is,” she heard H.G. fussing with the shopping bags, “it _is_ a rather large house- four bedrooms, actually. And I had a crazy thought that perhaps you and Pete might like to move in there with me. Rent free, of course- I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for the support you’ve both shown me since I’ve come back.” Myka propped herself up onto her elbows, eyes wide.

“H.G.,” Myka shook her head, “I can’t let you do that.”

“Nonsense, why not?” Helena was still fiddling with the handle of a shopping bag, unwilling to look at Myka.

“Well, for one, you _don’t_ owe me- or Pete,” Myka replied adamantly, “We’re friends, it’s not- I don’t want you to feel like you’re _indebted_ to me or anything like that.”

“Then, perhaps you’ll consider my offer without feeling indebted to me?” Helena grinned slyly.

“Stop being clever,” Myka scowled back at her playfully.

“I can’t, darling, it’s a curse,” Helena laughed brightly, “Now, promise me you’ll think about it?”

“I’ll think about it,” Myka agreed, knowing it was easier to relent than argue at this point.

“I know you’re only saying that to appease me, but I’ll take what I can get,” Helena finally sat on the bed near her, but not too close.

Myka kept noticing that since the other woman had returned she was very careful not to initiate much contact or position herself too closely.

“H.G.?” She asked, nervous as she looked up at the other woman.

“Myka?” Helena echoed, her tone teasing.

“I just wanted to say,” the grin slipped from H.G.’s face at Myka’s pregnant pause.

Myka took another moment, staring into brown eyes that, for years, she never thought she’d see again. She swallowed- too obvious, she knew it, but she couldn’t help it.

“I just wanted to say- congratulations. On the book, I mean. Pete told me a while ago, I just didn’t know how to- how to say that, really, but I guess it’s pretty easy, huh?”

Helena smiled, but Myka could tell it wasn’t genuine.

“Thank you, Myka,” she nodded, “Have you read it, then?”

Myka shook her head, embarrassed.

“No, not yet,” Myka hoped the woman wouldn’t question her further; she knew she had no good reason for avoiding the novel.

“Well, I’d love to hear what you think,” she shyly caught Myka’s eye, “whenever you get round to it.”

“Of course,” Myka agreed, inwardly wondering when she’d ever feel ready to read Helena’s words.

“Hey,” Myka continued, wanting to change the subject, “are you sure this pull out bed is okay for you? Is it comfortable enough?” She poked a lump in the thin mattress.

“I’m pregnant, Myka, but I’m not some delicate flower,” the woman rolled her eyes.

“We could trade off, or something, if you want,” Myka ignored her friend’s attitude, “Just let me know, okay?”

“If all goes well, I’ll be closing on my new house very soon,” Helena grinned, “and I intend to buy a lovely king-sized bed.”

Myka flushed, unable to stop herself from picturing the woman sprawled out on aforementioned king-sized bed. In her mind, Helena was naked, barely covered by a sheet she had wrapped herself in. She was glowing and breathless, spent from-

“Myka?” Helena had leaned a little closer, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Myka blurted, hopping off the bed quickly, “I was just thinking of how much work I have to do. So, I’m going to go do it. See you later.”

She didn’t wait for a response before briskly walking from the study.

/

“Come in,” Myka called after hearing the soft rapping at her door. It opened slowly to reveal Helena, dressed in a thin t-shirt and flannel sleep pants. Myka averted her eyes when she noticed the woman wasn’t wearing a bra.

“I’m not bothering you, am I?”

At Myka’s reassuring shake of her head, Helena continued, “I know it’s late, but I saw your light on.”

“Is everything alright?” Myka shifted, sitting further up in her bed and removing her glasses.

“I’m fine,” Helena smiled warmly, sitting at the edge of her bed, “I’m actually a bit embarrassed, though.”

Myka said nothing, just placed her book and glasses on her end table, looking at H.G. quizzically.

“Well, I insisted I was fine in that pull-out bed,” Helena looked sheepish, “but I have to say my back is protesting wickedly tonight.”

“Oh,” Myka’s eyes widened, “of course- we can switch.”

She started to pull the blankets off herself, when Helena’s hand stilled her. Myka looked up at her sharply.

“You could just stay?” Helena offered, barely above a whisper, “It’s late and- and cold out here.”

“Oh,” Myka repeated dumbly, realizing Helena’s hand was still holding her own, “okay.” She could hear her pulse beating madly and hoped H.G. didn’t notice.

“You’re sure?” Helena checked, giving her hand a squeeze.

“I’m sure,” Myka nodded, licking her lips. Helena’s eyes darkened at the action and she leaned in closer.

“I just,” Helena whispered and all of a sudden there was a hand behind Myka’s neck, “Can I?”

And Myka was eighteen again, she was sure of it. The moment stretched out infinitely long before Helena finally covered Myka’s mouth with her own.

There was a split second of sheer panic and Myka was terrified that would pull away. _No, not this time._ It passed and Myka moaned, the intensity of the kiss overwhelming her. She tugged Helena toward her roughly, only pulling away when H.G. needed to shift her weight in order to straddle her.

“Oh my god,” Myka panted, “I’ve been wanting to do this for as long as I can remember.”

“Let’s unpack that sentence later, darling,” Helena grinned before nipping at her neck, “I’ve got better plans for that mouth of yours.”

Myka couldn’t seem to suck in enough oxygen as H.G.’s mouth and hands were all over her. She rolled her hips, already feeling excruciatingly turned on. Helena had somehow managed to join her under the blankets and was now working both her hands underneath Myka’s tank top.

A warm, soft hand cupped her breast and Myka bit back a scream. Everything was happening so fast. She wanted to touch back, but she couldn’t get her hands to cooperate. She gasped loudly as Helena’s hot mouth suddenly covered her stiff nipple.

Helena’s hand trailed down her side and made its way between her legs, and Myka cried out, her nails digging into the soft skin beneath them. Slender fingers slipped over her clit and she knew she was barely holding on, a futile attempt at hanging on to some semblance of pride.

“Oh, God, Myka,” Helena panted in her ear, “You feel amazing. I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you.”

Myka’s eyes snapped open, blind in the pitch darkness of her room. Her body was teetering on the edge of orgasm and, without thought, she dragged her hand from under her pillow down between her legs.

Myka was incredibly wet and she stifled a groan as she began to rub her clit without preamble. She came only a few moments later, tumbling over the edge as she gasped for breath. The pleasure was fleeting, however, and the emptiness echoed inside her even as she could still feel the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Myka rolled over, alone in her bed. She tried, and failed, to both fall back to sleep and fight the tears that were bubbling up from her chest.


	3. Part three

“Where’s Christina?” Myka scratched her head, looking around with exaggerated movements, “Hel, have you seen Christina?” Helena poked her head around the corner.

“You’ve lost my daughter? Marvelous,” Helena replied dryly, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

Tiny fingers tugged down a blanket, revealing a smiling toddler.

“There she is!” Myka sang, reaching out to toss the little girl into the air. Christina rewarded her with a giggling grin that revealed all of her five teeth.

“Thank goodness,” Helena feigned relief as she walked over, "I was about to alert the authorities."

Myka threw the girl in the air twice more before putting her down to crawl on the floor.

"Myka, if you insist on riling her up before bedtime, you can be the one to put her down," Helena settled onto the floor next to the other woman.

"Oh no, my _least_ favorite thing to do," Myka stuck her tongue out goofily.

Christina babbled to herself happily, pulling all of her toys out of their basket. She crawled back to Myka, handing her a small plastic strawberry.

"Thank you, baby," she smiled, accepting the toy, "You want it back?" Myka offered it back to the little girl.

"Yah," she yelped excitedly, grabbing for the strawberry.

"Come here," Myka pulled the girl onto her lap, hugging her tightly, "Mummy is going to get mad at us if you don't go to bed like a good girl tonight."

"Mu, ma, ma, mu," she prattled, cuddling into the woman and smashing two of her toys together. Myka kissed the top of her head gently.

"Do you want a story tonight, sweetie?" She asked, peppering Christina's soft, dark hair with more kisses.

"Her hair is getting so long," Myka added, glancing up to find Helena smiling fondly at them.

"Mmhmm, I suppose it is," the woman nodded, before sliding closer and reaching for her daughter, "Come here, little one." She cradled the girl close to her chest.

"Are you ready for dreamland, sweet girl?" she whispered into Christina's hair.

Myka’s chest bloomed as she watched the other woman with her daughter. H.G. had turned out to be a fantastic mother- not that Myka had ever doubted she would be. While Myka had felt awkward and unsure of herself around the baby at first, Helena had been a natural from the start.

"Gimme back," she reached out her arms, opening and shutting her hands, "we've got a date with Dr. Seuss."

Christina squirmed out of H.G.'s grasp and settled back onto Myka's lap.

"Sure," Helena scoffed, "abandon me. I only spent 18 hours in labor giving birth to you."

The little girl rubbed her eyes sleepily in response.

"Oh, stop," Myka laughed, standing up with the girl still in her arms, "you know she loves you- you can’t blame her for being a book lover like her mum.”

“Yes, I suppose I shan’t fault her for that,” H.G. stood as well and leaned over to kiss her daughter.

Myka held her breath as the woman entered her space.

“Goodnight, my Christina,” Helena said simply, kissing the girl one last time, “I love you.”

Myka tried to keep her chest from tightening, but it was a losing battle. Instead, she merely smiled and carried the yawning child into her nursery.

Mid-way through story time, Myka felt her phone buzz within her pocket. She ignored it, deciding that it was probably just Pete, letting her know he wouldn’t be home until tomorrow. After concluding _Green Eggs and Ham_ , Myka stood and turned off the light. She rocked the little girl for a few minutes, humming a Gillian Welch song softly.

“Sleep tight, baby girl,” she whispered, placing Christina gently into her crib. Myka spent a few long moments looking down at the girl, marveling at just how perfect she was. She could hardly believe that the baby was over a year old- it seemed like Helena had been pregnant just a couple of weeks ago.

H.G. is a _mother_ , Myka shook her head with a chuckle. There were times when she couldn’t believe that this Helena was the same headstrong, independent girl that had befriended her so many years ago. She grinned, reflecting on the start of their friendship.

Myka had been reading when they met, of course. She was sprawled across the porch of her parents’ house, eyes straining to capture the fading contrast between text and page as the last of the late July day’s golden light spilled over the horizon. She had long since finished her Eighth Grade recommended summer reading list, and that afternoon she found herself sailing on the _Pequod_ , chasing a white whale.

“Hello,” Myka’s attention was pulled sharply away from her book by an unfamiliar voice. She brought a hand up to shield her view of the setting sun. It took a moment, but her eyes adjusted to the light and drank in the sight of Helena Wells for the first time.

Myka regarded her cautiously. The stranger was easily the prettiest girl she had ever seen and, in Myka’s experience, that could be a very dangerous thing.

“Hi,” she said, a hint of a question in her tone.

“I’m H.G.,” the other girl said, sitting on the porch steps a few feet from Myka and sticking out her hand, “I’m new in town.” Myka laid her book down, making sure not to lose her page, and shook the offered hand.

“I’m Myka,” she replied, still unsure of what the girl wanted from her.

“I’ve just moved in,” H.G. said breezily and Myka finally realized the other girl had an accent, “right down the street, actually. I came out for a little stroll to explore my new neighborhood.”

“Oh, um,” Myka looked closely at the girl, trying to decide if she was sincere, “welcome, I guess? It’s pretty dull around here, though.”

“I suspected as much,” Helena nodded sagely, “but at least I’ve had the good fortune to stumble upon a literate peer.”

“Who?” Myka asked reflexively.

She couldn’t be talking about Pete, could she? Had her best friend already convinced the beautiful new girl that comic books totally counted as literature? Her thoughts were interrupted as H.G. laughed brightly.

“Well, _you_ , Myka,” the girl grinned. Myka felt a blush rising in her cheeks, but something about the way the mysterious stranger laughed and said her name made her feel safe instead of threatened.

“Right,” she looked down sheepishly, bracing herself in case the girl followed up the comment by calling her a nerd.

“What year are you going into?” H.G. asked and Myka simply looked up at her inquisitively.

“ _Moby Dick_ ,” the girl nodded to Myka’s book, “Are you in high school?”

“Oh,” her eyes widened in realization, “Um, no. I’m going to be in Eighth Grade, actually. I’m just reading this for fun, I guess.” Myka trailed off, picking away at the porch’s peeling paint her dad had been meaning to take care of all summer.

“Splendid,” the girl’s eyes were alight, “That’s my year, as well.”

Myka chuckled, her consciousness returning briefly to the present. The thirteen-year-old version of herself had been so suspicious of Helena at first. She assumed the girl would make other friends, would stop coming by her house everyday, but she never did.

The night before the first day of school had been difficult. Myka didn’t sleep much, instead she stayed up trying to convince herself that H.G.’s friendship was unimportant. Sure, the girl was intriguing and probably the only person in Univille who both got her jokes and understood all her nerdy references, but Myka knew that would probably all change tomorrow.

Helena was beautiful and British, and carried herself with a grace Myka hadn’t even known could exist. There was no doubt in her mind that her friend would become instantly popular. A tiny space in her heart held onto the belief that H.G. was a good and loyal person- that popularity didn’t necessarily have to mean the end of their friendship- but she didn’t dare acknowledge it.

The next day, Myka purposefully stayed away from her friend, instead choosing to focus on her new courses. She lurked outside the door of the classes they shared, only entering once the lesson was about to begin. Myka tried not to notice the empty seat next to H.G. each time, unsure if the girl had been saving it for her.

Helena finally caught up with her before the final period of the day. She was switching out some books at her locker, wondering idly if Pete had football practice right after school or if they could walk home together.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Myka shut her locker gently, revealing a pouting H.G.

“Hmm?” Myka asked. She knew that Helena would know she was feigning ignorance, but she wasn't quite sure how to tell the truth. The girl scowled at her.

“ _Honestly_ ,” she brushed some hair behind her shoulder, “you’re a bloody awful liar.”

“You should be able to make new friends here,” Myka shrugged, hugging a textbook to her chest, “without, you know, having to babysit me or anything.”

“What?” Myka looked up to see a look of utter disbelief on her friend’s face and she sighed.

“H.G., it’s okay. I mean, look at me,” Myka awkwardly gestured to herself, “And look at you. There’s an order to things, you know? It’s okay. Maybe, if you want, we can still hang out outside of school, though. If you have time.”

Helena stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Myka,” she said finally, shaking her head, “that is _not_ okay.” Without another word, she stepped toward Myka and linked their arms together.

“Come on,” she led Myka down the hall, “we have U.S. History. I’m tired of sitting alone and I know remarkably little about your country’s past, so I will have to insist that you _finally_ take the seat next to me.”

Myka smiled warmly at the thought and left the nursery with a final glance down at Christina’s sleeping form. Yes, that girl from her memory had certainly grown up.

Pregnant Helena had been… well, she had been wonderful- breathtaking, really, if Myka was choosing to be honest with herself tonight. The woman was glowing and crabby and perfect and stubborn, sometimes all at once. Myka tried not to blush as she thought of the number of times she had been caught staring at her friend over the past nearly two years.

Myka sighed, walking down the dim hallway and wishing, not for the first time, that she could be a different type of person- a _braver_ person, perhaps. The arrival of Christina had only enabled Myka to continue hiding from her feelings with fewer questions asked and less eyebrows raised. It was easy to brush off potential dates or nosy family members when she was partially responsible for a brand new, tiny life.

At first, Helena had been insistent that Myka not give up her social life to stay home and take care of a child. However, Myka had countered that she didn’t really have much of social life to begin with. And so the two of them, along with Pete, had fallen into an easy, domestic routine.

Pete was around the house less and less, however, as his relationship with his girlfriend, Amanda, was getting more and more serious lately. Myka liked the woman very much and didn’t begrudge them their privacy one bit. Also, she had to admit, there were many times when she was happy to share her space with Helena alone.

Myka strode into the family room, smiling broadly at the scene that greeted her. Helena was typing away at her laptop, curled up on the couch. Two glasses of wine sat on the coffee table in front of her, and H.G.’s face was screwed up in concentration.

“How’s it going?” Myka asked, settling on the couch next to her friend as she picked up the wine glass.

“Alright,” H.G. replied, not looking at Myka, “It appears you got Christina down without incident?”

Myka laughed, sipping her wine.

“Oh, please,” she said brightly, “you know she’s almost always an angel at bedtime.”

“I do,” Helena spared her a quick glance, “but I was _so_ hoping she would be a terror for you tonight- someone needs to teach you a lesson.”

She quirked up an eyebrow, looking at Myka in a way that made her stomach flop. Myka took another sip of her wine to buy herself some time.

“Have you heard from Pete today?” H.G. asked and Myka was glad to not have to respond to the thought of being taught a lesson by the woman next to her.

“Oh, um, no?” She pulled the cell phone from her pocket, “Well, maybe- I think I got a text during storytime.”

Helena said nothing, and Myka heard her fingers dancing along the keyboard as she unlocked her phone. She frowned when she realized that her text hadn’t come from Pete.

“What’s wrong?” Myka glanced up to find Helena looking at her expectantly.

“Oh, nothing,” she sighed, “just… it was from Sam.”

Myka couldn’t help but notice H.G.’s face fall just a bit. She recovered quickly, however, and looked back to her laptop screen.

“And how is your gentleman caller? Still relentlessly pursuing you though you’ve yet to accept a date with him?” Helena’s tone was too casual.

Myka bit her lip as she read the text message: _Have time for lunch tomorrow?_ She groaned, darkening her screen.

“He’s a really nice guy,” Myka said, slumping back into the couch. “He wants to get lunch tomorrow.”

“Well, it has been a while,” Helena replied wryly, tapping at her laptop, “but I’ve been given to understand that lunch is an acceptable social setting for a date.” Myka ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head.

“I’ve heard that, too,” she sighed again, “What are you working on?”

“A new novel,” H.G. answered after a long moment, “And the abrupt conversation change is noted, by the way.”

“New novel?” Myka sat up excitedly, “You didn’t tell me!”

“Yes, well, you still haven’t read my _first_ novel, have you?”

There was just a hint of bitterness in Helena’s tone and Myka winced guiltily.

“Hel-” Myka started.

“Sorry,” H.G. said and Myka was glad for the interruption, “that came out a lot harsher than I intended. You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to- if you’re not ready.”

Myka frowned at the woman’s phrasing.

“It’s not,” she started and stopped, “I don’t know, it just seems _invasive_.”

“Myka, I did _publish_ the damn thing,” Helena reached for her wine, “There is a bit of an expectation that people will actually read it.”

Myka looked away sheepishly, feeling a blush rise from her chest.

“Anyway,” H.G. continued after an awkward moment, “I was asking about Peter earlier because I was hoping that one or both of you could watch Christina on Friday night.”

Myka glanced back toward her friend, noting that the woman wouldn’t make eye contact.

“Oh, yeah,” Myka nodded, “I haven’t spoken with him, but I’m sure it won’t be a problem. What are you up to? Work stuff?” Myka gestured at her laptop as Helena took a healthy pull of wine.

"Actually," she began carefully, "I have a social commitment of my own- a _date_ , I suppose."

"A date?" Myka repeated, her pulse quickening.

"Yes,” H.G. studied something on her screen, “Dinner, a film- your standard date activities.”

Myka paled as she thought of a few other things that could be described as _standard date activities._

“I, uh, that’s fun,” Myka fumbled to respond, “I didn’t realize you were dating. I mean, you never said anything before.”

“Yes, the invitation took me rather by surprise,” Helena finally looked over at her friend, “but I was asked and I couldn’t find a good reason not to go.”

Their eyes locked for a long beat, before Myka looked away, swallowing thickly.

“Well, that’s-” she picked at a piece of fuzz on her jeans, “That’s great. I’m sure you’ll have fun.”

“Thank you,” came the quiet response, “I hope I do.”

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” Myka asked without looking up. She blinked a few times to combat the sudden sting of tears behind her eyes.

“Actually, I think I’ll turn in early tonight and keep writing,” Myka heard the woman rustle next to her, but could only manage a nod in return.

“Goodnight, Myka,” the soft whisper barely reached her ears.

/

“Sit down. Let me fetch you some water,” Myka froze as she heard Helena’s voice carry down the hall, followed by the sound of someone softly coughing.

She pressed her ear against her bedroom door, frowning. It wasn't that she had been waiting up for the other woman, or anything, she just happened to be quietly reading in her bedroom. Near the door. And maybe listening- for _Christina_ , of course.

"Here you are," Myka strained to hear H.G.’s voice.

"Thank you, Helena. I'm so sorry to impose on you like this," the decidedly female response came after a moment.

Myka froze, eyes widening. A woman? H.G. had been out, on a date, with some woman. And now she had brought her back to their house to do- _oh God._

Myka had assumed that Helena was going out with a man. Somehow, that had made the whole night a little easier- Myka was able to remove herself from the situation. And, honestly, she had _never_ expected Helena to bring anyone home.

Myka heard quiet murmuring coming from down the hall and felt a wave of nausea roll her stomach. What the fuck was she doing? Could she possibly be any more pathetic? Myka leaned her head against the door and balled her fists. She should just go to bed, put some headphones on and- okay, there was no way she was going to bed, obviously.

Before she knew what she was doing, Myka found herself opening her door and walking down the hall. This was stupid, so incredibly stupid, but maybe it was necessary. Maybe she could just make her presence known subtly and Helena’s _date_ would be on her way.

She turned the corner just in time to see an auburn-haired woman lean in and kiss Helena on the lips. She didn’t hear the gasp fall from her own lips, but H.G. must have. Helena opened her eyes suddenly, breaking the kiss and staring at Myka. Their gazes met for only a moment as Myka turned and immediately retreated back to her bedroom.

Myka’s breath came in ragged pulls as she crumpled into a pile on her bed. She didn’t cry, surprisingly enough. There was a hollow feeling in her stomach that seemed to be growing larger with the second. Myka slammed her fist half-heartedly against her pillow a few times, trying to decide what the hell she should do.

“Myka,” Helena’s voice was accompanied by a gentle knock and Myka froze, “Myka, I’m going to come in unless you tell me not to.”

Myka shot upright, smoothing the blankets she had bunched up in her anger. The door opened.

“Hello,” Helena said quietly and, of course, the woman looked amazing. Myka had been trying not to notice before H.G. left for her date, but she was noticing now.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Myka offered lamely, looking into her lap. Helena sighed.

“Yes,” she stepped closer, “you did.” Myka’s gaze shot up.

“What? I didn’t-” her voice raising as she stood up, “I didn’t think I would walk in on the start of some- some _porn_ in my kitchen.” Helena pursed her lips and tilted her head, her expression unreadable.

“Why are you behaving this way?” H.G. asked her sadly.

“I just don’t understand why you had to- to bring that _woman_ to our home,” Myka couldn’t stop the words, irrational though they were.

“Myka, that _woman_ was my date,” Helena gaped at her, crossing her arms, “I don’t know about you, but I refuse to live my life in the shadows.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Myka scoffed.

“Oh, please,” H.G. growled, “you know perfectly well what I’m talking about. When was the last time you went on a date? With anyone- male _or_ female?”

Myka’s eyes widened and she shook her head, too stunned to respond. Helena had said the thing she wasn’t supposed to ever say. Myka had spent the past eight years building a precarious fortress and Helena’s words could destroy everything.

“Damnit, Myka,” Helena ran her hand through her hair, "I went on a date tonight with a lovely woman- she is beautiful and intelligent and _interested_ in me- but I spent my whole sodding evening thinking about you."

"Me?" Myka managed to ask, still dazed. Helena shot her an annoyed look.

"Yes, _you_. What you would've thought of the film, and what you would've ordered for dinner," she took a tentative step closer, "And whether we would hold hands as we walked to the train. And- and if your breath would hitch when I leaned in close to whisper at the cinema."

Myka's breath did hitch then as Helena grabbed her hand, grounding her, keeping her from running.

“I’m in _love_ with you, Myka. I think, perhaps, I have been since I met you," Helena continued in a whisper, "And I think you love me, too, not just as a friend, but as _more_. I think you feel as I do- that you ache to be near me, to touch me. That you still remember the night I kissed you, there in the cool grass.” Myka squeezed her eyes shut, unable to believe this was really happening.  

“If I’m wrong, then say it- tell me,” Helena was gaining steam and she moved impossibly closer, “But I believe that I’m right, and I don’t understand why you won’t let yourself feel this."

Helena tugged Myka’s hand toward and laid it over her heart. She felt the erratic thumping under her fingertips for just a moment, before pulling away and turning around.

"Myka, if you call this, if you call _me_ , disgusting again I swear I will never speak to you again. And this time I shall follow through more thoroughly," there was an edge to Helena's voice that Myka hadn't heard in more than seven years.

Myka shook her head, "I’m not going to, I promise, but...” She trailed off, not turning around.

"But what?" Helena asked, "I need you to talk to me.”

Myka shook her head and H.G. sighed.

“I came back here,” H.G. began again softly, “because I wanted you in my life- in _Christina's_ life- in any capacity. And so I tried to convince myself that everything I thought perhaps you felt for me didn’t exist, but, Myka, the way you look at me… it _burns_ me. So, tell me I'm wrong. Tell me that and I will drop this.”

“You're wrong,” Myka whispered, tears pulling at the corners of her eyes. She still had her back to the other woman.

“Tell me I'm wrong and mean it,” Helena repeated and Myka was frozen.

“Oh, Myka, I’m afraid you’ve broken my heart so many times that, one of these days, I won’t have large enough pieces to stitch back together,” Helena’s voice trembled, “I wait and I wait for you, I’ve been waiting since I was sixteen-fucking-years-old, but I can’t do it anymore. It’s killing me, Myka- to see you with my daughter, to know how perfectly our lives fit together, but at the end of the night we go to our separate rooms. It’s all too much.”

Myka’s shoulders shook as she attempted to suppress the sobs bubbling up from her chest.

“I think you need to move out,” H.G. choked on the words, “I’m sorry.”

Myka spun around finally at that, mouth hanging open.

“I’ll take Christina to England on holiday- we can leave tomorrow,” Helena nodded to herself, face tight, “Take as much time as you need. Just let Pete know when we should return.”

“No,” Myka breathed, shaking her head as tears ran down her face.

“No?” Helena asked incredulously, “No to _you_ , Myka. I’m sorry, but I want my daughter to grow up with a strong role model and that is not what I’ve been. It seems that I’m nothing but weak when it comes to you. You can still see her, if you like, but you cannot see me.”

“No,” Myka repeated breathlessly, sinking back down onto her bed in defeat.

And with that Helena was gone and Myka was alone. She cried reflexively, barely able to process all that had happened in the past few minutes. After a while, the sobs subsided and Myka took ragged breaths, angrily clenching her jaw. She barely slept and, sometime around 4am, realized with a bitter laugh that Helena had been the only person to ever keep her up all night.

Consciousness hit Myka like a slap to her face and she sat up quickly. She had fallen into a dreamless sleep at some point during the night, not bothering to undress or slip beneath her covers. Grabbing for her phone, Myka was shocked to see that it was already 9am.

A cold dread crawled up from her belly- Helena would already be gone, she was sure of it. She pressed her palms firmly into her eyes, angry that she hadn’t thought to set an alarm. She got up to check the house, disappointment settling deep within her bones as she was greeted by empty rooms. There was no note.

/

“Wow,” Pete blinked rapidly, nodding his head.

“You already said that,” Myka pointed out. She swiftly pulled her legs up onto the couch, wrapping her arms around them.

“Wow,” Pete repeated.

“Pete,” Myka warned before she inhaled deeply, “Are you really that surprised?”

He shrugged, shaking his head.

“I don’t know,” he said, “Not exactly? I mean I’m not really surprised you guys have a thing, or whatever, I guess I just never thought we’d actually talk about it.”

“We don’t have a _thing_ ,” Myka muttered, picking at some imaginary lint on her knee.

“So, this is why she left the first time, right?” Pete asked excitedly, ignoring her correction, “Something happened back then?”

“She kissed me,” Myka admitted, not bringing her gaze back up to him, “after prom.”

“I knew it!” Pete shouted triumphantly.

“Pete, I’m in the middle of something _huge_ ,” Myka sighed, “could you try to keep the gloating to a minimum?”

“Right, sorry,” he nodded apologetically, “So, she kissed you at that dickwad’s party, and then what happened?”

“I just completely freaked,” she frowned, shaking her head, “and I said the most terrible things. God, Pete, looking back- I’m so ashamed.”

“Hey,” he said, moving closer to her, “it’s okay, Mykes. You were so young, and probably really confused and overwhelmed. I just wish you would’ve told me then.”

“I know, I just-” Myka paused, biting her lip, “I just couldn’t. I’m barely doing it now.”

Pete scooted right up next to her and draped an arm around her shoulders, giving a little squeeze, “You’re doing great.”

Myka offered him a weak, but grateful, smile before bringing her gaze back to her knees.

“Ok, so let’s keep moving,” he continued, “H.G. left and you guys didn’t speak for, like, five years which, I’m not trying to judge here, but which _may_ have been a bit of an overreaction-”

“Pete,” she chided with a sigh, swaying to bump against his side roughly.

She was too exhausted to punch him on the shoulder, too exhausted to explain why she had simply let Helena walk out of her life all those years ago. So she said nothing and wistfully hoped she wouldn’t have to say much more. They were both quiet for a long moment before she looked up at him again, finally.

“I-” he started and stopped after they made eye contact, shaking his head.

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, choosing his words evenly, “I mean it, you know, I’m _not_ trying to judge you. It’s just, Myka, I’ve never seen you like this before- like you’re just totally defeated. I’m trying to understand.”

She inhaled deeply, hoping the even breath would keep her grounded and calm, “I’m really scared.”

“Of H.G.?”

“No,” she smiled weakly, shaking her head, before her mouth turned down into a frown and tears prickled behind her eyes, “of- of what this all means.”

Pete didn’t say anything, didn’t push her further, but Myka could feel his stare upon her, expectant.

“She’s not, you know, the _only_ person I’ve ever been attracted to. But I thought, at the time- I mean, I was seventeen, right? What did I know? I just thought that if I didn’t see her again- or, or talk to her again- I thought that I could stop, you know?”

“Stop what?” Pete asked gently, and Myka knew he was being dense on purpose just to keep her talking.

“Stop _being_ this way,” Myka sighed, frustrated. She tipped her head down to rest against her knees and brought her hands up to the back of her neck. They were quiet for another long stretch.

“Stop being _gay_ , you mean?” It wasn’t quite a question, but it didn’t seem like a statement either.

Myka winced into her knees, tears pooling at her eyes. She wanted to nod, or maybe disagree, or even to just be anywhere else but there, but she did nothing. Her entire body was frozen save for a stray tear that spilled down her cheek.

“Mykes,” Pete began, his words so quiet- so _gentle_ , as he started to rub her back, “it’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

“It’s not,” she barked, her limbs quickly thawing with anger. She hopped up off the couch and far away from his reassuring touch.

“It’s _not_ , Pete,” she was almost yelling now, “God, how can you even say that? Knowing where we’re from? Knowing my family- my _father?_ Pete, this is not okay! I just can’t- I can’t-”

Myka’s words broke off then as an ugly sob rattled out from deep inside her. She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe for support, arms wrapped tightly around her torso. She wondered if she squeezed herself hard enough, if she’d be able to collapse the cavernous pit that had taken up residence behind her ribs.

Pete was by her side in a flash. Even with her tear-blurred vision, Myka noticed his startled expression easily; Pete’s eyes were wide as he approached her.

“Hey,” he hugged her with strong arms, “ _Hey_. Myka, I love you. I’m not going anywhere- I promise you.”

Myka nodded, gulping down oxygen and feeling too out of control. She knew Pete loved her, that he’d be there for her- that wasn’t really her problem. No, the problem was everyone and everything _besides_ Pete.

He pressed his lips to her forehead, kissing her tenderly, “I’m so sorry.”

Myka pulled back, sniffling and wiping her eyes, “What are you apologizing for? I’m the one who’s crying all over you.”

“I’m sorry that you’ve been carrying this, alone, for so many years,” Pete’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, “I wish I had- I just should’ve _asked_ you. I wish I had asked you. I think maybe I’ve known for a while, but I didn’t know what to say. I should’ve said it- said _anything_. I’m just sorry.”

“Pete,” Myka wiped her nose with the back of her hand, grimacing, “do _not_ blame yourself, okay? You have been the most amazing friend to me. Without you, I don’t know how-”

Myka interrupted her own words with a shallow hiccup of breath. She tried again to breathe deeply, but her lungs didn’t seem to want to cooperate.

“Shh,” Pete rubbed her back, “I know.”

Myka’s breath continued to come in sharp, shallow staccatos, but it eventually evened out enough that she could speak again.

“How am I supposed to tell my family?” Myka asked into his shoulder.

“We’ll figure something out.”

“I don’t think I can do it,” she sighed.

“Mykes,” Pete pulled back a bit so he could look at her, “your family, they love you- they’re wild about you. Nothing could change that.”

Myka felt the edges of her lips pull down into a frown and she tried not to go off on another crying jag, “You don’t _know_ that.”

“I do,” he nodded emphatically as he led Myka back over toward the couch, “I really do.”

“It might be hard, or, or _weird_ at first,” Pete continued, “but I know that they are _not_ going to stop loving you. I’m sure of it.”

“Helena said she was in love with me,” Myka stated randomly, her eyes unfocused.

She waited for a response to the statement, but none came.

“How can she be in love with me?” Myka finally blinked, focusing on Pete, “And how can my family keep loving me? When I’ve been _lying_ to them for years-”

“Myka-”

“No, Pete, that’s what I’ve been doing. I don’t think I meant to, not at first especially, but that’s what I’ve done. God, I’ve been… distant, and- and cowardly, and unworthy-”

“Stop,” Pete told her firmly, grimly, and squeezed her arm, “Myka, I am _not_ going to let you do this.”

“Oh you’re not?” Myka smiled bitterly, “And you’re going to stop me how?”

“Listen, you can lash out at me all you want,” he let go of her, hands raised in surrender, “You wanna hit me? You wanna yell at me? Fine. I can take it. But I am _not_ going to let you kick the crap out of my best friend in the world when she’s already down. I love you, Mykes, but you are being your own worst enemy.”

Myka shook her head, inhaling deeply, ready to dispute her friend’s claims.

“You may feel unworthy right now, fine, whatever. I hate that you do, but I can’t make you stop,” Pete continued before she could say anything, “But I need you to understand that you are the very best person I know. You’re the girl who silently read comic books with me, comic books that I _know_ you hated, for 3 whole days when my dad died- until I was ready to talk to you. You’re the one who made sure I walked out of high school with a decent education, who wouldn’t just let me copy her work - even though it would’ve been quicker- you tutored me and _made_ me understand it.”

“Pete,” Myka was crying again.

“You’re the woman who sat me down, looked me in the eye, and told me I was drinking too much. Who made me see that I was becoming a guy I didn’t like, a guy you didn’t know, before it was too late. Mykes,” there were tears in Pete’s eyes now too, “you are _amazing_. And if you think for one second I’m going to let you beat the shit out of yourself, then you don’t know me at all.”

Myka leaned forward and fell into Pete’s arms, sniffling. Pete wrapped her up, stroking her back, and gave her a kiss on the side of her head.

“You gonna be nice to yourself now?” He asked quietly.

“Probably not,” Myka’s reply was muffled, “but I really do love you.”

“It’s my curse in life, woman can’t resist me,” he continued rubbing her back, “And apparently even lesbians fall under my spell. Good to know.”

Myka laughed, half-choking on tears, “I don’t think I’m ready to joke about this yet.”

“You laughed,” he pointed out as Myka pulled back to wipe her nose with her sleeve, “I’m serious, though. It _is_ going to be okay. And no matter what happens, you’re not getting rid of me.”

“I know,” she nodded, sniffling again.

After a long pause, she continued, “Do you think she’ll still love me? After all these years, after I’ve hurt her so much?”

Pete thought about that for a moment, “Yeah. I think so. But, you know, it doesn’t really matter what I think, does it?”

She managed a smile at him, “That’s true, since when does your opinion matter?”

“Oh, so _you_ can joke right now, but not me, huh?”

“Probably,” she nodded, quirking an eyebrow, “I’ve never come out before, but I feel like that seems like a pretty good rule.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed thoughtfully.

“I think I’m gonna go lay down for a while,” she hugged him again after a few quiet moments, “Pete, I- I don’t even know how to thank you.”

“You know you don’t have to, but I will accept cookies as currency,” he said, squeezing her tightly.

/

Myka pushed the door shut before walking to her bed and letting her body drape heavily across it. She’d spent years pulling all nighters throughout school, but this was, hands down, the most exhausted she’d felt in her entire life. She blinked up at the ceiling a few times before closing her eyes, trying to relax. After a few deep breaths, she confirmed that the snakes in her belly didn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon, and she probably wouldn’t be able to sleep.

She sighed, flipping over onto her stomach, her chin resting on top of crossed arms. She gazed over at her bookshelf, seeking out Helena’s novel. She’d bought it the day after the other woman had returned, her curiosity piqued by Pete’s description.

“I don’t know, Mykes,” he’d said back then, his mouth half-full of sandwich, “why don’t you just read it yourself?”

“Because,” she had explained, her patience wavering, “ _I_ only just found out about it. _You_ , on the other hand, have already read it and kept its existence a secret from me.”

“That’s not true,” he swallowed, “You knew it existed! You even said to me the other day that you wanted to read it.”

“Right,” she had agreed with him quickly, putting her own sandwich down to point an accusing finger at him, “which makes it even worse! I brought it up and you didn’t tell me! Did- did H.G. ask you not to?”

Pete had put his sandwich down then, too, and took a long sip of coke.

“No,” he looked uncomfortable, “she never _specifically_ said that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I feel weird about this, Mykes,” he squirmed, “can’t you just talk to her?”

“What did she say, Pete?”

“I don’t know,” he had shrugged, “When it first came out, she asked me a couple of times if I thought you knew about it. She asked if you had read it and stuff. I told her you seemed interested in it, but since you’re so busy with your dissertation, you don’t get to read for fun that often.”

“What’d she say to that,” Myka asked.

“You know her,” Pete grabbed some fries, slathering them in ketchup, “I knew she wanted you to read it, obviously, but she’d never come right out and say that. She was all, ‘hmm’ and other various British sounds of judgement.”

“Various British sounds of judgement?” Myka smirked.

“You remember how she does that,” Pete elaborated as he chewed, “like- if the noise was spelled out, it’d be p-f-f-t, probably.”

Myka smiled, shaking her head at him, “Mmhmm.”

Pete grinned, “Anyway, she never really pushed it, just kept asking every few months.”

Myka nodded thoughtfully as she picked up her own sandwich to take a bite.

“You really should read it, though,” Pete added.

Myka had politely chewed for a few seconds, before swallowing and asking why.

“Well, I mean, first of all- it’s just a good book. Wasn’t boring at all, you know?” He paused and Myka nodded, knowing that Pete wasn’t always that into reading when there were no pictures involved. 

“And, also, it’s so interesting to me that it came out of H.G.’s brain. Like- she just made it up, right? Or, I don’t know, maybe she pulled from past life experiences, but either way,” he shrugged, “she just built this story out of thin air. It made me feel like I didn’t know her- like before, when we were in high school- while I was reading it, if that makes sense. Like I finally got to see some stuff that she usually didn’t show, or maybe I just hadn’t noticed.”

Myka had chewed her lip as she listened to Pete describe his experience. She put down her sandwich and gazed at the table for a few moments, wondering what the story could be about. Would she feel the same way Pete had if she read it?

Finally, she had asked him, “Can you at least tell me what it’s about?”

He didn’t answer right away- for once, he actually chewed and swallowed his mouthful of food.

“I guess I’d say it’s about choices,” he had nodded, seemingly deciding that his answer was good enough, “Choices and regrets.”

Myka had gone to the bookstore as soon as it opened the next day, picking up a hardcover copy of the novel. She carried it nervously, refusing to open it, barely looking at it, on her walk home. Helena had been there, of course, settling into the guest room, so Myka darted to her room and pushed it onto the lowest ledge of her bookshelf before joining her old friend.

And there it had stayed, collecting dust. Myka glanced at it sometimes, when she was feeling particularly melancholy, but she hadn’t touched it since that day at the bookstore almost two years ago. _Well, it’s about time,_ she supposed, and slid from her bed, kneeling next to the shelf.

As she was about to grab the novel, she noticed a photo sticking out from between a couple of other nearby books. She pulled the picture out instead, feeling like someone had punched her in the gut when she realized it was a picture of herself with Helena before their senior prom.

_God, I was in love with her then, wasn’t I?_ she thought to herself, smiling despite the storm of emotions raging inside her.

The photo looked a bit dated, there was a deep crease along one edge, but the image was still sharp and memories flooded her consciousness. The way Helena had tried to comfort her when she was feeling awkward, the glint in her friend’s eyes when she caught Myka staring- it was all fresh in her mind.

This image of the two of them was a very good one- probably one of only good ones from high school, actually. They were standing so close, arms thrown around each other, and their smiles were wide and so _genuine_. Myka smiled again now, taking both the book and the photograph back to her bed, she settled in to begin reading.


	4. Part four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey. It's been a minute, eh? If you read this story when I first posted (over a year ago, yikes!)- I recommend you go back and do a quick re-read, because I changed/added a few bits. Smut warning on this chapter, as well. (I'm a bit nervous about that- it's my first time. Feedback is appreciated.)

Myka took a deep, steadying breath as she walked up to a quaint front door; the English countryside really _was_ just as picturesque as she had imagined it would be. She tried to peer inside the small window for signs of activity, but the curtain was drawn.

She pulled a crumpled scrap of paper from her pocket to, once again, check the address written in Pete’s sloppy hand. This was definitely it, the family home Helena had stayed at for a few years before moving back to the states, but there were no guarantees that she had come here again- or that she was even home at this time of day.

Myka nodded to herself resolutely, pushing all the variables of how this could go awry out of her mind. She knocked firmly on the door and waited. She heard a few muffled footsteps approaching before the door was pulled open.

“Myka,” Helena’s expression was unreadable.

“Hi,” she gave a little wave. H.G. crossed her arms and shook her head.

“What are you doing here?” She asked quietly.

“I missed you,” Myka responded honestly, and Helena closed her eyes, inhaling deeply.

“I’m sorry, but-”

“And you were right,” Myka interrupted, taking a step closer.

Helena’s eyes snapped back open, and she regarded Myka suspiciously.

“What?”

“The other night- what you said, before you left,” Myka swallowed, “You were right.”

“Myka, what are you saying?”

Myka thought she could hear a hint of hope in the other woman’s voice and it bolstered her confidence.

“What I’m saying- is that you were right,” Myka bit her lip, “about me.”

She took a deep breath and another step closer- almost reaching the door where H.G stood, her body language still closed off and defensive.

“Helena, I’m in love with you,” she continued, “I think maybe I have been since I met you- definitely since that day you looked at me in my prom dress, in the dressing room, do you remember?- but probably before that. And I never stopped thinking about you while you were gone, and I never stopped wanting you. And I’m _such_ a coward, I know it, but I thought maybe- well I hoped that I wasn’t too late?”

Myka paused for a second to breathe, ready to launch into more of the speech that she’d practiced countless times on the long flight, but was now butchering horribly.

“And I know-”

“Myka,” Helena halted her, one hand slipping out from beneath her crossed arms to signal the other woman to stop.

“Yes?” Myka asked anxiously, wringing her hands.

“Would you please stop blathering on and kiss me already?”

Myka blinked, stunned. She gaped at the smile blooming on Helena’s face for just a moment before stepping forward, a crooked smile of her own forming. She closed the distance between them, pressing her lips gently against the other woman’s.

Myka remembered the last time they had kissed, so many years ago, and wanted more. She reached out, wrapping one arm around Helena’s back and let her other hand snake through impossibly soft hair to rest on the back of H.G.’s neck. She felt Helena reciprocate, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss.

Myka wasn’t sure how long they stood there, making out like a couple of teenagers on her parents’ front porch after a date. The kiss oscillated between tender and breathless, and Myka idly wondered if the other women could feel the mad thumping of her pulse. Finally, Helena pulled away, her chest heaving noticeably.

“Well,” she breathed, pressing her forehead against Myka’s. “Hello. I-”

Helena was interrupted by the slamming of a door across the lane. She twitched, glancing beyond Myka, but kept her body steady tight in their embrace. Helena narrowed her eyes for a moment, her mouth turning down into a little frown, before turning sharply away.

Before Myka had a chance to react, she felt Helena’s fingertips trail from their place on the back of her neck, across her shoulders and down her arm. They tightened around Myka’s wrist and gave a little tug, so Myka stumbled forward into the house, following blindly after Helena’s back.

She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the dim house and she attempted to process everything that had happened over the past few minutes. Helena locked the door before turning to look at Myka, leaning her body against the door behind her. Their eyes locked again, Helena smiling apologetically.

“Sorry about that,” she began.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Myka quickly agreed, her nerves creeping back in. Had Helena not wanted anyone to see them together? Was that why she was so quick to pull them into the house.

“It’s just,” Helena took a deep breath, “ _that_ particular neighbor is a bit of a twat, really. If she catches you outside, she’ll rattle on about nothing for at _least_ ten minutes.”

“Oh,” Myka exhaled, nodding.

Helena pushed herself away from the door, “And I’m not too keen on chatting with Susan right now.”

Myka nodded, her throat dry as Helena approached her.

“I was sort of hoping I could keep you to myself,” she whispered, standing in front of Myka, “if that’s alright with you?”

Myka nodded once more before swallowing down a lump in her throat, “What about Christina?”

“With my brother for the day,” Helena smiled, quirking up an eyebrow, “quite fortuitous.”

Myka’s eyes flashed from gazing at Helena’s eyes down to her lips. She bit down on her own bottom lip before looking back up the other woman’s eyes.

“Quite,” her voice came out breathy.

They stared at each other for just a moment more before Myka surged forward and picked back up where they left off on the front steps. She traced Helena’s jaw before tangling her fingertips in the other woman’s hair and kissing her soundly. She ran her other hand all over Helena’s hips and back, revelling in every curve and plane.

And Helena’s hands were everywhere on her, too- gripping the back of her neck, scratching down her back, grabbing at her ass. Myka was quickly losing composure, a fire stoking low in her belly. She pulled Helena closer still and stepped one of her legs forward between the other woman’s. She began moving, softly at first- her hips swaying to some silent rhythm. After several more breathless kisses, her efforts had increased to a mix of half-grinding, half-thrusting against the other woman, but she was too far gone to care.

Helena bit down gently on her bottom lip at just the same time as one of her thrusts hit home- the direct contact from the pressure of the H.G.’s thigh making Myka moan. She had _never_ felt like this from just making out with someone. With every thrust against Helena, she was reminded of the wetness growing between her legs.

“We should-” Helena mumbled between kisses, “we should- talk. Shouldn’t we talk?”

Myka nodded, tried to make some sound of agreement, but it really just came out as a soft grunt- her mouth busy nibbling and sucking on that wonderful spot just below Helena’s ear. She started unbuttoning Helena’s shirt.

“Myka-” Helena’s hands were suddenly on top of her own, stilling her actions, and her voice was soft near her ear, “are you sure? Is this- it’s not too fast?”

Myka pulled back to look at Helena. The woman’s lips were parted, swollen from kissing, and her eyes were dark and questioning. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Myka was sure she’d never been more beautiful.

“I’ve thought about this,” Myka began, taking hold of Helena’s hands and bringing them to her lips, “a lot.”

She kissed Helena’s fingertips, smiling at the woman’s sharp intake of breath as she took one digit a little deeper into her mouth, “God, Helena, I swear- there were so many times I nearly exploded over the past few years. I wanted so badly to-”

She shook her head, abandoning the thought and letting Helena’s hands drop to her sides. After a deep breath, she continued unbuttoning the other woman’s shirt.

“I was so scared- for so long- but I’m not scared right now,” Myka smiled, slipping the open buttondown shirt off the other woman’s shoulders, “Okay, I’m a little nervous, sure. Mostly, I’m happy and excited- and really, really turned on.”

At the last part, she leaned forward again to kiss Helena’s collarbone. She heard the woman gasp softly and brought her arms around her again, caressing the soft skin of her back.

“I want this,” she whispered, moving up to kiss and suck at Helena’s neck, “I want _you_ , Helena.”

“I can only be noble for so long, darling,” Helena sighed, her arms circling back around Myka, “so if you’re sure?”

Myka smiled and nodded before taking Helena’s earlobe into her mouth, unhooking the women’s bra deftly. She worked her fingertips under the straps at Helena’s shoulders and softly, slowly, trailed down her arms, letting the bra fall to the floor. She pulled back to look.

“Wow,” she breathed, “I-”

Myka swallowed thickly, trying to find her voice, before finally managing, softly, “You are so, _so_ beautiful.”

Helena smiled.

“You’ll tell me- won’t you?” Myka checked, her hands stilling as nerves crept back in, “You’ll tell me if I do something wrong or, or if you want me to do anything different?”

“Myka,” Helena reached up and laced her hands behind the back of Myka’s neck, “darling, I promise I will.”

Myka’s hands drifted to Helena’s hips and she caressed the soft skin beneath her fingertips.

“To be honest,” Helena added, “I’m not sure it’d be _possible_ for you to do anything wrong right now. I am excruciatingly aroused, actually- I’m not sure I’ve ever been this wet in my entire life.”

Myka bit down on her lip, her stomach twisting and her thighs involuntarily clenching at Helena’s words. Her fingertips curled around the other woman’s hips.

“I may very well come the very moment you touch me,” Helena continued, her voice breathy and low, “I hope you won’t judge anything _premature_ on my part.”

Myka bit her lip before grinning. “I love you, Helena,” she said then, leaning in to kiss the other woman once more.

“And I love _you_ , Myka,” Helena managed between kisses, “so very much.”

They made their way to the bedroom, both women smiling and panting as they bumped against doorways and furniture. Clothes were shed sloppily and hands roamed hungrily, though neither woman was willing to pull far enough apart from the other to navigate the path clearly. Finally, they were standing next to the bed and they made quick work removing the few articles of clothing left separating them.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Helena’s eyes devoured Myka’s naked form. “You’re really here."

Myka nodded, “I am.”

Myka reached for Helena’s hip, pulling the other woman close and revelling in the feel of skin pressing firmly against skin. She trailed her other hand down Helena’s neck and collarbone to her breast, watching the reactions on the woman’s face as she teased the nipple.

Helena moaned before leaning forward to kiss Myka. She gently guided the two of them  so that the backs of Myka’s legs were pressed against the mattress. They collapsed onto the bed, Helena on top. Myka shifted back to bring them further onto the surface of the mattress, their legs intertwining.

“Fuck, you’re _so_ wet,” Myka could barely breathe as Helena’s bare thigh finally made contact with her own wet center.

“I _did_ warn you,” Helena whispered into her ear as she kissed down her neck, “And so are you, darling.”

Myka was already so close; she felt like she should probably be embarrassed, but couldn’t bring herself to care as she blindly ground herself on Helena’s thigh with every thrust. She was moaning and panting, quickly spiraling out of control.

Helena’s mouth and hands were on her breasts and it seemed like every swipe or lick over her nipple was directly connected to her clit. She buried a hand in Helena’s silky hair and tried not to scream as the other woman swirled her tongue around Myka’s nipple.

One of Helena’s hands continued to drift lower, stopping briefly to grab onto Myka’s hip before trailing over her leg and to her inner thigh. Myka’s legs widened automatically. Helena slowly, torturously, traveled higher. Myka tried to thrust against her, but Helena barely made contact as she continued to nibble on Myka’s breast.

“ _Please_ ,” Myka panted, “fuck me.”

Helena’s head snapped up at that and she gazed hungrily at Myka. She kissed Myka and she slid the tip of her finger forward, stilling when it was just barely inside Myka.

“Fuck,” Helena breathed between kisses, “ _Myka_.”

Helena pushed in deeper and Myka gasped, digging her fingernails into Helena’s shoulder. Helena set a slow rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. After a few moments, she added another finger and Myka moaned, panting into her ear.

Helena ground herself on Myka’s thigh with each thrust, her hips and arm working in unison. She kissed Myka’s neck and started to pump a little faster, a little harder. Myka was so close, she was moaning louder now, grabbing onto whatever she could of Helena- the back of her head, her ass, her shoulder. Myka cried out as Helena’s thumb circled her clit, while fingers curled inside her.

Helena panted into Myka’s ear, their bodies grinding and moving together. Helena’s thumb rubbed just a little faster and Myka’s orgasm exploded out from her core. She grabbed Helena, pulling her close as she tightened around Helena’s fingers.

Myka’s body twitched as she rode out her orgasm, her breath coming in pants and gulps. She brought one of her hands down to cover and still Helena’s. They were quiet for a few moments, save the sound of their quick, heavy breaths. Myka’s were calming down, but Helena’s were still quick and desperate.

Myka shifted slightly as her body came down from the high of the orgasm, and she inadvertently pressed her thigh harder between Helena’s legs. Helena gasped and ground herself against the woman beneath her. Her breath was raspy and wild near Myka’s ear.

Myka felt like she was made of jelly, but she started to guide Helena’s hand to withdraw her fingers.

“Myka, you don’t have to move,” Helena tried to argue, but even that came out breathless and needy.

“Want to,” Myka smiled and tugged Helena’s hand gently, but she moaned when Helena’s fingers slid out of her.

“You are so incredibly hot,” Helena breathed, bringing her now free fingers up to her mouth.

She took the digits into her mouth, moaning around them, as she tasted Myka.

“Jesus, Hel,” Myka’s eyes widened slightly.

Myka rolled them over so she was on top of the other woman, and kissed her roughly, tasting herself on her lover’s lips. She knew Helena was turned on- she could feel how wet the other woman was with her thigh- so she wasted no time teasing her. As they kissed, she brought her hand down and slipped it between their bodies, pressing firmly on Helena’s clit. Helena broke the kiss, crying out and grasping Myka tightly.

Myka rubbed steadily and slowly for a few seconds and Helena’s breath began to come even faster. Myka’s fingertips were silky, slipping over Helena’s clit with ease. She moved lower, rubbing and teasing her opening. Helena’s hips thrusted toward her as she moaned beneath Myka.

Myka moved down to kiss Helena’s breasts as she slid inside her. Helena was _so_ very wet, and warm; for a moment, Myka couldn’t believe this was actually happening. She moved slowly inside the other woman, nibbling on her nipple as she thrust. She knew Helena was close- and desperate- so she moved back up to her clit, rubbing and sliding over the nub firmly.

After just a few more moments, Helena was grabbing at her shoulder and moaning; Myka wasn’t sure, but the other woman seemed really close. Myka thrust back inside her once more, her fingers curling and her thumb seeking out Helena’s clit. The angle was a little awkward, and, for a moment, Myka worried that it wouldn’t be enough to make Helena come.

As soon as she thought it, however, Helena stilled underneath her, crying out. Myka bit down on her lip as she felt the other woman tighten and pulse around her fingers. She kept her gaze trained on Helena’s face- the parted lips, the flushed skin, the closed eyes- as the orgasm washed over the other woman.

Myka settled her head onto Helena’s chest, comparing the rhythm of the rapid thudding beneath her ear to the continued throbbing around her still fingers. Helena’s arms draped heavily around her as the woman pressed gentle kisses to the top of her head. Their heavy breaths were the only soundtrack in the still silence of the bedroom.

/

“She cried for you,” H.G. said quietly, “Christina, I mean.”

Myka frowned, unsure of how to respond. They were lying together in bed, Helena spooned in front of Myka, tangled in sheets. The sun was beginning to set somewhere in the real world, and the little nest they had created was rapidly dimming. Myka had been trailing her fingertips up and down her lover’s arm as they drifted in a blissfully unconscious rest state, but she stilled at the comment. Helena rolled over onto her other side to face Myka.

“That first night, after we settled in here. I put her down and, after a few minutes, she started crying. She’s never really done that before, you know, only when she’s been very sick. So I picked her up, and I checked her for a fever, and I rocked her- but she wouldn’t stop crying,” Helena traced the edges of Myka’s frown with her fingertips, “And I asked her, I said, ‘My dear Christina, what’s the matter?’ And do you know what she said?”

Myka shook her head, enraptured.

“She said, between her little fits of wailing, she said ‘Mama, mama!’ And, at first, I was so confused,” H.G., ever the storyteller, narrowed her eyes, miming confusion, “I told her, ‘Christina, baby, mummy is right here. I’ve got you.’ But she shook her little head no and cried for ‘mama’ again. And then, of course, _I_ started crying because I realized she was asking for you.”

“Helena,” Myka started, her eyes watering and her hand snaking around the other woman’s hip.

“I held her so tightly, probably a bit _too_ tight,” Helena continued, “and I didn’t know what to say. I was speechless, if you can you believe that, but that’s when I realized that I could never _really_ walk away from you. After she cried herself to sleep, I almost bought a plane ticket back that very night, but I stopped myself. I wanted you to have some time, my love, just a bit more time.”

Helena wiped a tear that had spilled and was dropping down Myka’s temple, into her hair, onto the pillow they were sharing. Myka closed the distance between them, kissing Helena reverently.

“I took too _much_ time,” she sighed, pulling back just enough to look at the other woman without putting space between their bodies, “I feel like I wasted so many years.”

“Nonsense, darling,” Helena’s fingers danced over her jaw, her neck, “We’re here now, aren’t we?”

“We are,” Myka agreed with a little sniffle, smiling and leaning into the other woman’s touch, “And have I mentioned, ‘wow’ yet? Because I definitely meant to, sometime after the second orgasm, I think.”

“It took two?” Helena looked offended, “Hmm.”

Myka shifted impossibly closer, wrapping a long leg around both of Helena’s. She pushed a stray strand of hair behind H.G.’s ear.

“Well, before that I’m not sure I was actually capable of articulating my thoughts properly,” she bit her lip, somehow still feeling bashful.

“Perhaps you couldn’t speak, but you were certainly able to make some noise,” Helena smirked, “We’re going to have to work on that, you know. We won’t always be lucky enough to get Christina out of the house everytime I want to have my way with you.”

“Have your way with me?” Myka questioned, shifting her weight and flipping over so she straddled Helena, her hands pinning the other woman’s wrists, “Is that what happened?”

“Oh yes, darling,” Helena nodded, smiling wickedly, but making no attempt to free her arms, “That is _exactly_ what happened.”

 

The end


	5. Epilogue

“Hel,” Myka called over her shoulder as she dug through one of her drawers, “have you seen my sweater?”

“I’ve seen a lot of sweaters, darling,” came the somewhat muffled response from somewhere else in the house.

“The red one!” Myka huffed, mussing up everything in the drawer, “The one I _told_ you I wanted to pack last night!”

Less than a minute later, material was suddenly draped on her shoulder. Myka turned around, startled. Helena stood there smirking, bouncing a happy-looking Christina on her hip.

“Ah, yes,” she mimed realization, “ _that_ sweater. The one you woke me up about at 3 in the morning.”

Myka grabbed the material from her shoulder, realizing with a sheepish glance that it was the sweater in question.

“We had it dry cleaned for you this morning while we were running errands,” Helena looked at Christina, “didn’t we, love?”

“Yeah!” Christina chirped.

“Yes we did, because we know mama is perhaps just a little bit mad right now, don’t we?” Helena cooed at her daughter.

“Mama,” Christina happily reached out for Myka.

“Please do not call me insane in front of her,” Myka chided with a smile, as she took the girl into her arms, “Hi, baby.”

“She agreed with me earlier, I swear,” Helena shrugged as Myka kissed Christina on the top of her head, “Anyway, you _do_ have to relax, darling. It’s not good for you.”

Helena wrapped her arms around both Myka and Christina, giving Myka a soft kiss on the lips.

“I can’t,” Myka sighed, “I won’t be able to relax until we are on the plane back home.”

Christina squirmed in between the two women, so Myka set the little girl on the bedroom floor to play. Helena rested both her hands on Myka’s shoulders, looking at her firmly.

“Myka, you already did the hard part,” she said gently, “And they have not disowned you, they did not cry, or yell at you- in fact, they have invited us for Thanksgiving.”

“I know,” Myka agreed, glancing down to make sure Christina hadn’t gotten into any trouble on the floor, “but it was just _me_ there last time. And- and it was much more about coming out, not about _us_.”

“I’m trying not to be offended, love,” Helena’s voice quickly sounding annoyed, which was her way of masking hurt, “but are you saying that your family will have a more difficult time accepting that you are dating me, than they did with the fact that you are bisexual?”

“No, Helena, that’s not what I mean,” she cupped the other woman’s cheek, kissing her softly, “Not at all.”

“Because I rather remember your father being quite fond of me,” Helena pouted.

“Baby, he was- _is_ ,” Myka wrapped her arms around her girlfriend, “I think he likes you more than me.”

“ _That_ is nonsense, darling, the man thinks you hung the moon,” H.G. scoffed, “but, if it’s not that, then what are you so nervous about?”

“It’s just,” Myka sighed, resting her head on Helena’s shoulder, “there’s bound to be a learning curve with them, right? I mean- yes, they reacted better than I ever expected, but…”

“But what, love?” Helena asked, rubbing Myka’s back.

“If they do or say _anything_ to make you feel uncomfortable, god, I couldn’t stand that,” Myka lifted her head to gaze back at H.G., “Or _Christina_ \- if they… I just know it’s unfair to expect them to be perfect right now. But I _need_ them to be, do you understand? We finally have each other, and we have this incredible little girl, but- if they- I think it could wreck me.”

“Myka, listen to me a moment,” her eyes were fiery, “There is nothing your family could do or say that would ever change the way I feel about you. I’ve got a very thick skin, love, but if we need to leave prematurely- for Christina’s sake, for _your_ sake- I have absolutely no problem being bluntly honest with them.”

“I don’t want to ruin Thanksgiving,” Myka added in a small voice.

“I don’t think you could ruin _anything_ , even if you tried,” Helena smiled, “Worst case scenario, we will leave and take a decadent vacation far away from your parents. Deal?”

“Deal,” Myka exhaled, before feeling a tug on her pant leg.

She looked down to see Christina pulling herself up to stand, grasping onto Myka’s leg for support.

“Up pees,” the little girl demanded, reaching one hand higher.

“And you, missy,” Myka smiled, lifting the child easily, “Are you ready for a plane ride today?”

“Elmo!” Christina cheered, knowing that plane ride equaled watching as many Elmo videos as she wanted.

“I’ll never forgive Peter for showing her that,” H.G. seethed, moving to continue packing the suitcase.

“I don’t know,” Myka said with a grin, “some of them are actually pretty good.”

“In that case, she can sit on _your_ lap.”

“Sounds good to me,” Myka gave Christina a little jiggle, “what do you think Chris? Wanna sit with me on the plane?”

The girl nodded happily, saying, “Yeah, mama!”

Myka and Helena locked eyes over the girl, both smiling broadly.

/

“Thank _god_ you guys are finally here,” Tracy sighed dramatically, leaning back against the door after closing it, “Now where’s my future niece?”

She pushed herself off the door, and approached the little girl, who was engrossed in stacking some blocks on the floor.

“Trace,” Myka tried hard not to blush. She hoped the unspoken “please stop embarrassing me” was apparent in the way she drew out her sister’s name.

“Hi, Christina,” Tracy crouched on the floor in front of the girl, “I’m Tracy, do you remember me?”

“Christina, say hi, love,” Helena prompted as she unpacked the suitcase.

“Hi,” the little girl mumbled, distracted.

“She’ll warm up to me, don’t worry,” Tracy stood up and wrapped Myka in a hug.

“It’s those blocks,” Myka explained, squeezing her sister, “she got them a week ago and she’s been obsessed with them ever since.”

“It’s fine,” Tracey assured her with a wave of the hand, “Now let me look at you.”

Myka ducked her head, wondering how it was her little sister could still make her feel bashful after _all_ these years.

“You look beautiful, Myka. And _happy_ ,” Tracy beamed, before turning her attention to Helena, “And _you_!”

“Hello Tracy,” H.G. hugged the younger woman tightly, “it’s been ages, hasn’t it?”

“It really has,” Tracey agreed, nodding, “and somehow you’ve managed to get _hotter_ over the years. Nice snag, sis.”

“I’m going to go crawl into a hole of embarrassment if you guys need me,” Myka was blushing as she kneeled down to play with Christina on the floor.

Tracy laughed before turning back to Helena, “Now, H.G- I may be the _younger_ sister, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still give you the speech.”

“Speech?” Helena asked at the same time Myka whined “Trace” again.

“You know,” Tracey ignored her sister, “the _speech_. About how if you hurt my sister, they’ll have to find your body in pieces, or whatever.”

“Ah, yes,” Helena nodded sagely, “very intimidating, darling.”

“Now that that’s out of the way,” Tracey fell ungracefully to the floor, “Did I mention how glad I am that you’re here?”

“Mom and Dad driving you crazy?” Myka asked, turning a block over in her hand.

“They’re a little nervous,” Tracey explained, “it’s equal-parts adorable and infuriating.”

“How so?” Myka pushed.

“Just- they want this weekend to be perfect, I think- Dad especially. And Mom spent like an hour cleaning this room today, then they asked me four times whether H.G. had any food allergies.”

“That sounds rather sweet,” Helena eyed Myka knowingly.

“I guess it kind of is,” Tracey agreed, oblivious to the silent conversation going on around her, “still annoying, though.”

“And they should be home soon, right?” Myka checked.

“Mmhmm,” Tracey confirmed, giving Christina a little tickle that actually earned her some eye-contact and a grin, “Oh, that reminds me- I’m supposed to get dinner in the oven before they get back.”

She pushed herself up from the ground, “Bye bye Christina! We’ll work on this whole you noticing me thing later when the blocks are gone.”

Christina, for her part, _had_ started to notice and play with Tracy, so she waved goodbye.

“Need help?” Myka asked.

“Nah, you guys unpack. I’ll have a glass of something waiting for you downstairs when you’re ready- wine good?”

“Red wine would be lovely,” Helena smiled, pausing for a moment before continuing, “It really is _so_ good to see you, Tracy. You’ve grown up to be such a lovely young woman.”

“Aww H.G.,” the younger woman stepped forward to give Helena another hug, “stop it- you’re going to make me cry. It’s really good to have you back here.”

With that, Tracy turned on her heels and left the room, bounding down the stairs.

“Oh, yeah, sure- red wine is fine for me, too, Trace! Thanks for asking!” Myka half-heartedly called after her.

Helena laughed as she moved a few pairs of pants to an already open drawer.

“Some things don’t change, do they?” she mused.

“No, but luckily some do,” Myka offered as she rose from the floor.

She walked up behind Helena as the other woman fussed about with the suitcase, and wrapped her arms around her. She placed a gentle kiss to the other woman’s shoulder and gave a loving squeeze.

“That’s true,” H.G. leaned back into Myka’s embrace, “It’s a bit strange being back in your bedroom, though, isn’t it darling?”

“It really is,” she laughed, letting go of her girlfriend and moving to sit on the bed beside their large suitcase, “I can’t even tell you the number of nights I laid awake on this bed thinking about you.”

“I’m listening,” Helena quirked up an eyebrow wickedly as she unpack the last of their clothes, “Would you be so kind as to describe these thoughts. Ms. Bering?”

“Helena, Christina is right there,” Myka insisted, but grinned.

“Oh, bugger that,” H.G. scoffed, “she’s not listening- I think she’s still on an Elmo high. Proceed.”

Myka shook her head, but did as asked, “Well, I mean, in high school, we _were_ best friends- I thought about you a lot. I didn’t realize that maybe the _way_ I thought about you wasn’t exactly friendly.”

Helena smirked as she closed up the suitcase and moved it to the corner of the bedroom. She joined Myka on the bed, sprawled out on her side with her head propped up by an arm.

“What way was that love?”

Myka mimicked Helena’s position, facing the other woman, “I’d- I don’t know- think about something you said in class and swoon about how smart you were. Or just wonder what you were doing and, then, get _so_ excited if you texted me. Do you remember how we would text until so late at night, even on school nights?”

“I do,” the other woman agreed softly.

“Later, when I came back from college,” Myka inhaled deeply, “it was… hard. Being back at home was always worse. At school, I could distract myself from thinking about you too much, but here… everything reminded me of you.”

“Do you wish I hadn’t kissed you, back then?” Helena asked.

Myka thought for a moment before responding, “For a long time, I told myself I hated you for it. I tried to convince myself that I was just angry at you for, I don’t know, seeing something there that wasn’t. For ruining our friendship. Because, it couldn’t be there, you know? Because that would’ve made _me_ not straight, and I couldn’t- I couldn’t be that.”

Helena nodded and reached out to hold Myka’s hand.

“Sometimes, though,” she continued, “ _sometimes_ , I felt like that kiss was the only thing that kept me going. The memory of it, of how perfect it was - before I freaked out, of course - it was like this little candle that wouldn’t go out. Even when I was feeling bad about myself, or too busy, or really sad- it just kind of kept glowing, just enough to stay lit. Does that sound crazy?”

Helena shook her head, “Not at all.”

She opened her mouth to continue, but was interrupted by the echoey slamming of the front door.

“We’re back!” Her mom called.

“We should get down there,” H.G. offered, not moving except to stroke her thumb along Myka’s wrist.

“Yes,” she replied, leaning forward to kiss her girlfriend, “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit of domestic fluff- hopefully it balances out some of the earlier angst. Thanks for reading!


End file.
